Distraction
by FalconLux
Summary: Hermione discovers why it's dangerous to wander the halls of Hogwarts after curfew… But is it really possible to rape the willing? An unconventional way to start a relationship. Angst, lemons, romance, fluff, Dramione. Mature audiences only, please.
1. A Terrible Thing

**Setting:** Set after DH, disregarding epilogue. We're back at Hogwarts to complete the 7th year.

**Author's Note:** Okay, this one just kind of hit me tonight and I knew that I had to type it up. I have ideas for more installments, though not anything too well formed yet. I'm working on something else right now, so if I do continue this one, it'll be updated infrequently when I feel the need for a cleansing distraction from my WIP. Let me know if you think it's worth continuing.

**Content Warning:** Graphic sex and rape (sort of) but only in the first chapter. If that's not your thing, it's not my fault. I'm not making you read it.

**Disclaimer:** Okay, we all know this is J. K. Rowling's playground, and I am not she. I make no money from this and own nothing but the plot. You get the idea...

* * *

Hermione didn't know what time it was. Somewhere between midnight and predawn. She didn't sleep much anymore – not since the war. Since returning to Hogwarts for her seventh year, she'd turned to wandering the halls at night to find solace from the nightmares that plagued her every time she closed her eyes.

She'd held it together so well during the war, she'd never have thought herself the kind to fall to pieces like this. But when the war had ended, she hadn't known how to live in a world where her life wasn't in danger. She lived in a world now where she was safe, but her shoulders never seemed to lose their tension, as though she was always expecting an attack. Her mind remained tight with worry, wound to a fever pitch of readiness to confront a danger that wasn't coming.

She knew all of this, but she was powerless to do anything to change it. The very worst part was pretending like she wasn't one sudden noise away from hexing anyone in sight. Harry worried. Ron worried. Ginny worried. Professor McGonagall worried. Everyone seemed to be worried about her. So she'd started pretending. She'd pretended that everything was fine, and they'd started to believe her. Now she didn't know how to do anything else. She couldn't disappoint and worry them all.

So she basked in the silent solitude of the nighttime corridors, letting go of the mask. Allowing herself to think. To wallow. To _be_.

A noise in the corridor with her jolted her back to her standard high alert. Had it been the scuff of a footstep? The whisper of a voice? She couldn't be sure. She reached for her wand, but just as her fingers began to close around the wood, it slipped from her grasp.

A scream of panic built in her throat as she spun wildly, searching for her wand and the one who'd taken it. There was no one.

No, she corrected. There was no one visible.

She let her eyes unfocus and listened intently. There was a whisper – like a voice. She spun toward it, but it was too late. Her body slammed against the wall behind her and her arms slapped out to her sides, bound to the wall by something utterly immobile and as invisible as her attacker.

"What do you want?!" she screamed, choking on her panic as memories of writhing beneath the Cruciatus threatened to steal her away into a waking nightmare.

For a moment, the hall was silent apart from her own labored breaths. Then…

"You," a voice whispered so close to her ear that she could feel warm breath against her skin.

She yelped and tried to kick out at whoever it was only to discover that her ankles had joined her wrists in immobility. She screamed in futile desperation and fought uselessly against her restraints.

And then something wet and foul hit the back of her throat and her mouth was forced closed, her nose plugged. A potion, she recognized the flavor, but couldn't place it.

"Calm down," the voice said in her ear again, and then she remembered. Calming draught.

She didn't want to swallow, but she had to breathe and knowing that it wasn't poison…

She gulped and gagged as her face was released. Her knees trembled slightly in lethargy as the potion began to take effect and she sagged a bit against the bonds. Without the adrenaline, her recent terror and her many nights of little sleep were conspiring to push her toward a doze despite her predicament.

"That's better," the voice approved. It was male, but she couldn't tell any more from the whisper. There was a muttered incantation, and then her clothes were gone. All of them. She was completely naked against the cold stone wall, at the mercy of an invisible man.

"Why are you doing this?" she managed to whisper. She would not beg for mercy, she resolved. No matter what happened, she would endure it with dignity. Well, as much dignity as was possible under the circumstances.

Instead of an answer, she felt warm breath against her neck, and then lips nibbling their way from her ear down to her shoulder. The swipe of a tongue. Gentle graze of teeth.

A huff of breath escaped her and she trembled involuntarily as a warm hand rose to stroke her breast and tease at her nipple.

_No!_ She screamed at herself. She was being raped! She wasn't supposed to _enjoy_ it! She tried feebly to buck against his touch, but his lips were working their way down to her other nipple. His tongue laved at the tender flesh, and then there was the gentle pressure of teeth.

Her eyes fluttered closed as the ghost of a moan escaped her throat. Gods, what was wrong with her?!

The lips curled against her breast – into a smile, she was willing to bet – and traveled lower still. She realized where they were headed and a new wave of panic tried to break through the potion's effects. The adrenaline was burning off the potion, but not fast enough. She couldn't quite reach true fear.

He wasn't going to… What kind of rapist would…?

All such thoughts and inhibitions fled her mind as a hot tongue sank into her already wet folds and she groaned in pleasure. Bliss blinded her and her thoughts rapidly devolved into renditions of, _Yes…more…yes…don't stop!_ The words never left her throat, but her moans spoke volumes.

She felt her pleasure spike as it never had when she'd ministered to herself. The tongue moved faster, harder, as though he knew her very thoughts, and one long moan built into a scream of ecstasy as her every muscle contracted beneath her surge of pleasure.

Gradually, her sensibilities began to return as her body trembled through involuntary aftershocks. She felt long, slender fingers trail slowly up her thigh until they could be slathered in the wet heat trickling down her legs. One of them slipped inside her and she shuddered, a whimper of excited pleasure spilling from her lips.

The finger plundered her deeply, and then stopped. Slowly, it was retracted, and she felt the heat of his breath as he slowly rose. She became aware that he was quite a bit taller than her as his naked body met hers, and those wonderful fingers began a gentle twirl around her clit.

The breath was on her ear again as her arms were freed from the wall. She lowered them slowly, one to her side and the other to rest on the man's shoulder. "You can go," the voice whispered. "If you want to."

For a moment, she simply stood there, her lust addled brain trying to process what was happening. He was going to let her simply walk away?

The fingers hadn't stopped their gentle stroking and twirling though, and another shiver of pleasure coursed through her body.

_Did_ she want to go?

Her hands found the flesh that she couldn't see and followed the line of his neck up to his face. She pulled it toward hers, her lips searching for his. She felt them meet. So unbearably soft, gentle, almost hesitant, and flavored with her own musk.

His lips parted and she moaned into his mouth as her tongue sought his.

And then her attacker returned. All gentleness was gone. His tongue speared her mouth as strong hands griped her shoulders and shoved her hard into the wall. Something half shriek and half groan crawled up her throat and she heard him grunt in return. His hands fell to her ass, squeezing painfully, drawing another shriek from her, and then he was lifting and her legs seemed to be his accomplices as they wound around his waist.

She felt the pressure as his cock found her entrance, and she just had time to think that she was about to lose her virginity to a man she'd never even seen. Then he drove into her and pain ripped through her body. He swallowed her scream, but it was still loud enough to ring off the hard walls. The pain did not relent as he withdrew from her almost completely, then drove in again.

It seemed like the pain would never end and tears fell freely down her face as her chest heaved beneath her sobs.

Then he scraped his pelvis against her clit and she was jolted with an unexpected bolt of pleasure. It happened again. The pain was fading, and…

"Oh!" she cried out in surprise as the first stab of pleasure landed inside her. Another followed. Stronger – more demanding. She groaned and angled her hips into him more fully. The next thrust hit deeper and she gasped.

"Better now?" his voice came roughly in her ear.

She nodded shakily and he started plunging into her harder. Cries of approval echoed off the walls once more as her pleasure mounted. The sublime agony of his tongue suddenly seemed pale and irrelevant compared to this newfound wonder as he stretched her in ways that she'd never been stretched. Wonderful, wonderful ways.

"Come for me, Hermione," he gasped, his lips brushing her ear. "Come on me."

His rasping plea pushed her over the edge. "Oh, Gods, Draco! Yes!" she screamed as she came and his cry immediately followed. He slammed into her rapidly a few more times and she felt his release flood her. She was trembling in his arms as they both struggled for breath.

After what may have been minutes or hours, she slowly began to think in straight lines again, and reality hit her like a slap in the face. When had she realized who he was? When had that happened? His voice, his scent, his height, the contours of his body against hers… At some point, her mind had sorted it out, but she'd not really understood it until she'd cried his name.

His lips met hers again, and she responded despite her revelation, moaning softly into his mouth.

He eased her back onto the cold floor and then his body left hers. She still couldn't see him. Suddenly, she felt very cold and exposed.

A pile of clothes hovered over to her and fell at her feet, her wand among them.

She faintly heard his footsteps retreat down the hall and then she was well and truly alone once more.

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**So what'd'ya think?**


	2. Perspective

**Author's Note:** Just a short little chapter to give you all an idea of where we're going from here. I might post another one today. Not sure yet. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, obviously characters and universe aren't mine and I'm definitely not making any money from this.

* * *

Draco hated himself. No, he loathed himself. Well, that wasn't strong enough either, but he didn't feel like probing his vocabulary further. After leaving Hermione he'd spent the entire night sitting on his bed contemplating the merits of just leaving the school, and maybe Britain entirely rather than having to face her ever again. Maybe that was cowardly of him, but it may also have been the noble thing to do – sparing her his presence.

He could not believe that he had snapped like that – that he'd somehow rationalized it in his mind. He'd thought that, maybe, if she'd just give him a chance without all their history to get in the way… He'd had a thing for Hermione Granger since their fourth year. He'd tried to ignore it. He'd tried to deny it. Finally, he'd hidden it behind disdain and insults. Everything that he'd been raised to believe told him that she was less than him, barely worthy of being called a witch.

Everything that he'd been raised to believe had been wrong. Hermione was beautiful, intelligent, talented, and powerful despite her parentage. It wasn't until the end of the war that he'd realized that it was more than mere interest or infatuation he had developed for her. When Greyback had shown up with her… When Bellatrix had… He'd never been so horrified by anything the Great Lord and the older Death Eaters had done in his presence. He'd never been impressed by the famed Griffindor courage until he'd watched Hermione stand up to Bellatrix despite being tortured nearly to death.

It was in that moment that his entire world had shifted. In that moment, he'd wanted nothing more than to flee his home and join the other side. After the war, his parents had gone to Azkaban, and they'd die there, he was certain. He was now the head of the Malfoy family, master of Malfoy Manor, and sole proprietor of a fortune that would be virtually impossible to squander in his lifetime even if he was a complete idiot. He didn't need to finish his schooling. Even had he felt the desire to sit his NEWTs, he could have done so with private tutors in the comfort of his own home.

No, there was only one reason he'd come back to Hogwarts this year, and she had been barely civil with him when classes forced them into proximity and had ignored him the rest of the time. What had begun with such promise – such hope – had quickly proved an utter disaster. He'd come to understand that Hermione would never be able to look at him without remembering their bitter history.

And now he'd done something so deplorable that it positively shamed the rest of their history. He'd managed to convince himself that, if they could be together somehow without her established animosity, that she could finally see him differently. His father had taught him to take what he wanted, but…

No! That was no excuse! He'd raped the only woman he'd ever cared about. Despite his father's attempts to the contrary, rape was one thing that Draco had never allowed himself to be a part of. He'd not turned away the stupid willing girls that his father had thrown at him, but he'd not ever taken that great a pleasure in them either. He'd never experienced anything like last night…

He shook his head roughly and cursed himself coarsely once more. The calming draught had been a stroke of genius – much as he hated to admit it. She'd responded to him as he'd wished she would, but only because that potion had been clouding her mind, subduing her true feelings toward him and the situation. Once that worked its way out of her system…

Gods, he hadn't known that she'd been a virgin. He'd never have done it had he known. He'd tried to let her leave once he'd realized, but when she'd kissed him… It had felt like she truly wanted him, and he'd responded to that with the need he'd been suppressing for so long. And now he'd managed to thoroughly destroy any minute chance he may have otherwise had of someday convincing her that he wasn't that cruel boy she'd known. Hell, he'd proven that that was _exactly_ who he was.

If she went to McGonagall, he would find himself reunited with his parents, but he was finding it difficult to care about that this morning. He hated himself so much, that he figured he probably deserved it. He hated his life so much that Azkaban didn't seem like it could be that much worse.

"Hermione, I'm sorry," he whispered, closing his eyes against the tears that had begun to flow again.

^V^V^V^V^V^

Hermione sat on the windowsill in her room, arms wrapped around her knees, staring out at the grounds, which were finally beginning to be revealed by the growing morning light. The surprisingly pleasant ache between her legs serving as a constant reminder of the night she'd had. She couldn't believe what Draco had done. A few years ago, it may not have surprised her as much, but he'd not been cruel to her this year. The few times they'd actually talked, he'd been strangely polite. She'd begun to believe that maybe he had really changed.

And then this…

It seemed like the last and greatest insult he could deal to the 'mudblood' that he'd tormented for so long. She knew that she should have gone straight to the headmistress and reported the incident. He'd drugged her and violated her in the worst possible way. He'd taken the last vestige of her innocence - shattered all that had remained of her childhood. He'd…

But he hadn't called her mudblood once. He hadn't said anything nasty to her or gloated at her shameful submission. And no matter how many angles from which she analyzed it, he'd not done anything to debase her. She could not seem to stop replaying in her mind the way that his lips had felt against hers for the first time. So gentle. Hesitant. So… sweet?

And then after… everything… he'd kissed her again, and it had been like the first. The calming drought had been well and truly out of her system by that point, but she'd kissed him back. She'd enjoyed the feel of his skin against hers – she'd enjoyed it a lot more than she wanted to admit. She remembered how cold and alone she'd felt when that contact had been lost. In the back of her mind, beneath everything else she'd been thinking about since then, a yearning to regain that precious contact had not receded.

Probably it was some twisted form of Stockholm Syndrome, she assumed. After what he'd done, she shouldn't want to see him again unless it was at his trial, but she couldn't seem to help herself.

It would fade, she reasoned. He'd been her first, and it hadn't been terrible, thanks to that potion. That was absolutely the only reason that she was feeling as she was. With a little time to gain perspective, she was convinced that she'd see Malfoy in the proper light once more. She may never be able to convince herself that she hated him for what he'd done, but she was certain that returning to a state of strong dislike would come naturally enough.

With that in mind, she finally pulled her sore body off the windowsill. It would be breakfast soon, and then back to classes, and she was desperately in need of a nice long soak in a hot tub before she had to put her mask back on.

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**So let me know what you think. Do you like these revelations? Draco always minded me a bit of the boy on the playground pulling a girl's pigtails because he didn't know how to deal with the fact that he liked her. **


	3. Revelations

**Author's Note:** Somehow my author's note got cut out when I first posted. Not that it was terribly insightful to begin with. This chapter isn't great, but it is necessary to get from here to there, so I hope you find it interesting enough in the meantime.

**Disclaimer:** Characters, universe, and most of the backstory belong to Rowling. Obviously no one is paying me for this.

* * *

Draco didn't really feel like going to breakfast today – or ever again – but he found himself on his way there anyway. He had to see if Hermione would be there. If she'd be a broken mess or even if she'd just hex him on sight. He couldn't stand not knowing what repercussions he would face from the stupidest thing he'd ever done.

He entered the Great Hall with his heart pounding so hard that he could barely hear over the blood rushing in his ears. His eyes automatically turned first toward the head table, searching the faces of the headmistress and staff, waiting for accusing eyes to meet his. There were none, he realized. Hermione hadn't told anyone yet. He wanted to take that for a good sign, but it was possible that she was simply too ashamed to tell anyone.

A whole new level of loathing soaked through him as he turned his eyes toward the Gryffindor table, searching for the familiar bushy hair. After a moment, he decided that she hadn't arrived yet.

Stomach turning at the very thought of food, he sat down and dished up randomly, moving food around his plate without interest while he watched for her arrival. Just when he was becoming convinced that she wouldn't come to breakfast, she entered. His eyes raked over her desperately, searching for any sign of pain or unease. He couldn't find any.

She didn't even glance toward the Slytherin table.

"Hermione!" Ginny's voice cried out and a smile bloomed on Hermione's face as she picked up her pace toward the Gryffindor table.

Draco stared after her, food forgotten, as he tried to work out in his mind what was happening. She hadn't told anyone, and she didn't appear at all upset…

She never appeared upset when she knew someone was watching, he recalled. He'd seen her walking the corridors at night many times over the last few months. Her face emotionless, her eyes hallow. Sometimes she cried. But every time, she was right back to her cheerful self the next morning.

Hermione Granger was a very good actress.

^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^

Hermione took a deep breath before entering the Great Hall and schooled her features into her familiar mask. She felt something like life come over her face and stepped into the hall, resolutely _not _looking toward the Slytherin table. She didn't know if Draco would be there this morning, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to hold the mask in place if she saw him right now with her night of brooding so fresh in her mind.

When Ginny called to her, Hermione let the smile form, commanding it to reach her eyes, then hurried over to greet her friends. She was quickly submersed in pleasant, comfortable chit-chat between Ginny, Harry, Neville, and Luna. Ron hadn't come back this year, opting to take the Ministry's offer to go directly into auror training. She hadn't been surprised by his choice, as he'd never been fond of school, but she'd also been relieved. Their almost romance had been over before it had started and she was glad to put some distance between them.

She was surprised by how easy it was to hold onto her mask today. There had been some days since the start of her seventh year when she'd held onto it by her fingernails, all but screaming inside her head at the utter irrelevance of the conversation shared by her friends. She wanted to know how it was possible that any of them cared about Quidditch or could stomach witty banter or romantic gestures. It all seemed so meaningless.

It didn't help that her four best friends also made up two couples, leaving her the reluctant fifth wheel. Sometimes she felt terribly certain that they only included her out of pity.

Today though, it didn't feel as bad. Some of her smiles might have actually been almost real. While she ached to examine that odd phenomenon, she didn't dare. She'd learned the hard way that the fastest way to lose control of her act was to let herself dwell on unpleasant thoughts. Before she knew it, her mask had slipped away and her friends were concerned. Again.

So instead of trying to figure out what exactly was going on in her addled brain, she followed the conversation at the table and tried to find something to say from time to time so that they would know that there was nothing at all wrong with her this morning. Breakfast passed in the usual blur as she was too focused on maintaining the charade to pay attention to something as mundane as the passage of time.

Harry and Ginny joined her in heading down to the potions lab. Neither Luna nor Neville were taking Advanced Potions. Hermione tried not to focus on the way Harry and Ginny walked arm in arm or the adoring looks they kept exchanging as she fell a bit behind them. She tried not to think about how alone it always made her feel. Most of all, she tried not to think about gentle kisses in dark corridors.

What was wrong with her?! She'd been _raped_! She could not be thinking of it fondly. There were so many levels of wrong here that she didn't even know where to begin. Well, she started with firmly blocking out that little voice in the back of her mind that kept reminding her that he'd offered to let her leave and she'd continued it. She'd read that many rape victims felt guilt afterward, somehow rationalizing the ways in which it had been their fault. She'd always thought it was completely irrational, but now she was doing it.

"Hermione, is everything okay?"

Ginny's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. They'd reached the potions room, she realized. She quickly shook herself and slipped her mask back into place. "Yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought. I was trying to remember something I'd read about Callastan's new method of distilling the essence of ivy for use in the new healing draughts…"

And just like that their eyes had glazed over and they'd stopped listening. And worrying. Good. She nodded to them and made her way to her desk at the front of the room, very pointedly not looking at the table at the other side of the room where Draco was. Gods, she was going to have to look at him at some point. She couldn't avoid him for the rest of the school year.

She considered glancing at him now, just to get the first time over with, but then she dismissed it. It was too soon. She needed to relax a bit. No point in forcing it. She thought she'd be okay if he wasn't looking at her. If he was… What expression would she see? Would he be smug? Would he be detached? As though nothing had happened? No, she wasn't ready yet. Maybe at lunch she'd try to sneak a glance at him from across the room. It would be easier to conceal her reaction or sneak away if necessary.

With that decision firmly in mind, she arranged her supplies on her desk, resolute to keep her eyes from wandering in his direction.

"Silence," the familiar drawl entered the room as the Professor strode between the desks to the front, black robes billowing impressively. She was convinced that he'd spelled them to do that. It couldn't possibly be natural. "You will begin your NEWT project today," he went on, his eyes scanning the room, daring anyone to make a sound or do something equally foolish, like sneeze. "As your performance will reflect upon your teacher, I have taken the liberty of sparing you your own foolishness. I have chosen your partners for you based upon your skill in this class regardless of house or social affiliation." He sneered toward Harry and Ginny's table. "With any luck, you will all be able to manage an acceptable grade for your NEWT.

"Before any of you get the idea, there will be no substitutions to these pairings, so I do not care if you are pleased with your partners. I have posted your pairings," he pointed his wand toward the ingredients cupboard where a parchment was hanging, covered in his narrow, spikey scrawl. "Refer to it, then resituate yourselves so that you share a work station with your partner. These arrangements will be permanent for the remainder of the year."

With a swish of black robes, he turned and swept back into his office, indicating that they were free to follow his instructions.

Hermione hurried over to the cupboard that was nearest her table to check her pairing and hopefully escape before Malfoy arrived. Her eyes scanned down the parchment and froze on her name.

Granger/Malfoy

She didn't realize that she was staring with her mouth open until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She twitched uneasily before realizing that it was Harry. He looked at her with concern, then looked at the list. She knew when he found her name because he grimaced and turned sympathetic eyes on her. "Sorry, 'Mione."

"It's fine," she replied automatically and turned back toward her desk.

And Malfoy was right in front of her.

She froze, staring at him in simple fear. It wasn't fear that he'd hurt her – she didn't believe that, regardless of what she was still trying to sort out about last night – but simple fear of their ridiculous situation. She had no idea how he was going to act, and she wasn't entirely sure how she would either.

"My table is closest to the storage cupboard," somehow came out of her mouth.

"I'll get my stuff and join you," he replied, his eyes wary, his voice quiet.

^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^

As Draco made his way back to his table to collect his things, he tiredly wondered if he shouldn't just drop potions. He knew Severus wouldn't let him change partners, and he couldn't imagine being partnered with Hermione for the rest of the year. Yesterday, he'd have been thrilled. Today, it seemed unusually cruel to subject her to his presence. He'd have to talk to Severus after class.

Rocks seemed to settle in his stomach as he collected his things and returned to Hermione's table, where she was staring resolutely into an empty caldron, her face completely empty. It just about killed him to know that he'd done that to her. Maybe he should just turn himself in, admit what he'd done, and face the consequences. He deserved it.

"You will work on your NEWT project on your own time," Severus voice came as the man returned to the room. "You may speak to me regarding your chosen potion and time to work on it after you've had a chance to choose one. Be certain that it is a potion worthy of a NEWT project," he said menacingly. "I would like to pretend that you're all intelligent enough to choose a potion on your own, but I will assign one if necessary."

Draco felt a tiny smile tug at his mouth. Severus was so good at being scary, but it would never work on Draco. He remembered too clearly the tickle fights they'd often devolved into when he'd spent weekends his with godfather when he was young. It was hard to find someone intimidating after he'd blown raspberries on your stomach.

Severus flicked his wand at the blackboard with a totally understated bit of nonverbal magic and a recipe began to scrawl itself. "Begin."

Hermione looked up enough to see the name of the potion, then said quietly, "I'll get the ingredients."

Draco ran his hand through his hair roughly before he began setting up the work station for their brewing. When he glanced up, Severus was watching him with a look on his face that said they needed to talk. Draco nodded just slightly in return. Severus released him from his gaze then and settled down behind his desk, turning his attention to stacks of parchments, probably essays.

Luckily Draco and Hermione both knew what they were doing well enough that speaking wasn't necessary through most of the brewing process. They managed to work side by side silently without looking at each other for nearly the entire double potions class. Until he reached for the stirring rod at the same time that she did. Their hands met and she flinched away as if she'd been burned, rubbing her hand on her robe like she'd been soiled.

Draco stared at her in complete shock. He'd expected her to hate him, but that reaction was enough to surprise him. She was utterly disgusted by him. "Hermione, I…" he began, his voice choked with emotion that he couldn't suppress.

"Don't!" she snapped, too loudly, drawing the attention of the entire room.

Draco cringed, ready for just about anything as their eyes finally met again.

The fire he saw in those golden brown eyes sent an unexpected heat straight to his groin. He remembered that passion too clearly. For a long, incredibly tense moment, she just stared at him. Then she snatched up the stirring rod, took a slow, deep breath, and began stirring the potion smoothly despite the fact that her jaw was clenched and her shoulders far too tight.

Draco fought a surge of nausea inspired by her hatred and silently gathered up the powdered spider legs, adding it slowly and evenly while she stirred.

"Miss Granger," Severus voice interrupted them, "Stay after class."

Hermione's lips thinned further. "Yes, sir," she said quietly.

Draco sighed almost silently. He had to make sure that she wasn't going to get into trouble because of him.

Their potion turned out perfectly. Evidently, it would take more than working with him to make Hermione Granger perform poorly in class.

As everyone else filed out of the room toward third period, Draco remained behind with Hermione. He loitered near his table while Hermione approached Severus' desk.

"Wait outside, Mr. Malfoy," Severus said coolly, his eyes on Hermione.

Draco cleared his throat uneasily and approached rather than withdrawing. "Excuse me, sir, but I think what I have to say may be relevant."

Severus sighed in evident annoyance and turned his gaze on Draco. "Speak."

Draco took a deep breath and steeled himself. "Sir, I would like to drop this class."

Severus eyes widened slightly before hardening. He glanced at Hermione again. "Yes, well, I would say that is relevant," he said bitingly. "Miss Granger, you're dismissed."

She nodded slightly and turned back toward their table. Their eyes met for just a moment and he read confusion in hers. He tried to convey apology with his own, but she looked away quickly.

She closed the door behind her on her way out.

Severus sighed once they were alone together and leaned against his desk while he motioned for Draco to sit. "Please tell me that you're not asking to drop my class because I paired you with Miss Granger."

Draco cringed as he sank into his seat, trying to figure out how to possibly explain. "I am," he said quietly.

"I thought you liked her," Severus said, exasperated.

"I do," Draco grumbled. "But she hates me."

Severus huffed, "She doesn't know you. As annoying as I find that girl, she does not lack for intellect. If you're forced to work together, she will eventually figure out that you've changed since the war."

Draco leaned forward and buried his face in his hands, "Maybe she would have, before… Gods, I ruined everything…"

"What did you do?" Severus asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

"I assaulted her," Draco choked. He felt the tears starting again but he didn't fight them. Severus was the one person in the world in front of whom he wasn't afraid to cry. "I took advantage of her in the worst possible way."

"Start at the beginning," Severus said in that low, sharp tone.

And Draco did. He began to explain the ridiculous reasoning that had brought him to that dark corridor in the middle of the night and then began to pick up speed, the entire thing spilling out of him like poison being purged from his system. When he was finished, Severus was quiet for a long time before Draco found the courage to raise his eyes to the only man he'd ever truly looked up to.

Severus looked very tired. "If I thought for a moment that your regret wasn't completely genuine, I'd take you to the headmistress myself," he growled softly.

Draco just nodded his agreement. He'd half expected that that was exactly what his godfather would do when he'd finished his confession.

"You have to talk to her about it," Severus said finally.

Draco's eyes widened. That was the one thing he didn't think that he could do.

"You have to explain yourself, Draco," Severus said severely. "You have to find a way to make amends. It's a miracle that she hasn't told Minerva already, but she still may. If that happens, you'll have to face the consequences of your actions."

Draco nodded again. He'd rather that than talk to her.

"Damn it, Draco, I'm not telling you to do this to relieve your own soiled conscience!" Severus snapped, rising abruptly as he began pacing. "That girl deserves an explanation from you. She deserves to know that you would sooner die than hurt her again. As for dropping my class, you deserve nothing less after this, but I'm not going to let you make that choice. If you leave, Miss Granger will have to complete her NEWT potion alone, so she can decide if she would rather that than working with you."

Draco hung his head. He knew Hermione well enough to believe that she could and would complete the project by herself without a great deal of difficulty. "Yes, sir," he whispered.

"Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and think about her, you bloody fool," Severus snapped. "The next time I see you in this room, I expect to have an answer from Miss Granger."

"Yes, sir," Draco muttered again.

^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^

Hermione left the potions lab in something of a daze. Had that really just happened? Was Draco dropping potions in his last year just because he couldn't stand the thought of working with her? She was having a really difficult time figuring him out. First he's raping her and then… Then it was more like making love.

She cringed at that thought and forged ahead.

When their hands had touched… She'd wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms. How was it possible that she'd actually felt safe in his arms? After what he'd done. How was it possible that she so badly craved his touch? And then he'd started to say something, and there had been such emotion in his voice. Had he meant to apologize? Part of her scoffed at the thought, but she couldn't make herself believe that it was impossible. The pain in his eyes had looked real.

She mentally slapped herself. He deserved to be in pain after what he'd done. She hadn't been able to let him say whatever it was he'd meant to say. Whether it was apology or something else, she didn't think that she could have controlled herself. She couldn't be falling to pieces in front of the whole class – or hexing him in front of Professor Snape.

She wearily dug herself out of her mental mope as she entered the Arithmancy room, glad to have something else to focus on. Unfortunately, Draco was one of the other five students in her Advanced Arithmancy class. She opened her book and focused her attention on it, refusing to lift her gaze when Draco arrived a few minutes after the class had started, quietly explaining to Professor Vector that Professor Snape had kept him after class.

She could almost feel him crossing the room to his seat. Merlin, she just wanted to stop thinking about him entirely. Why did he have to be taking almost every single class that she was?

Somehow, the next hour passed, though she wasn't sure that she remembered anything they'd been taught. She'd have to read the chapter again later. She rushed out of the room, hoping to get a good head start on Draco. She went so quickly, in fact, that she was several minutes early for Herbology and she found herself standing in the cold outside the greenhouse while she waited for Professor Sprout to arrive. She hugged her cloak tighter and cast a warming charm on it, trying with all her might to think of nothing at all.

Neville and Luna arrived after a couple minutes, shortly followed by Harry and Ginny, and she pulled her mask back into place, losing herself in paying attention to their polite chatter.

Draco didn't arrive until seconds before the class started, and he stayed as far away from her as was possible, she was relieved to find. She wished that she could understand what was going through his head – why he was acting the way that he was. She wished she knew what he thought about what had happened. Clearly he wasn't simply pretending that it hadn't happened, but he wasn't gloating about it, even with just smug looks.

She was on her way to lunch before it hit her. She stopped in her tracks, eyes wide. He regretted it. That's why he was acting the way that he was. He regretted what had happened.

The only question now, was _why_ he regretted it. Did he wish he hadn't done that to her, or had it been so dissatisfying for him that he wished he'd never bothered?

* * *

**All right. There's chapter three. What did you think? I know it's a little heavy with so much self-loathing and confusion going on, but I promise that it'll pick up soon. There may even be some more smut in the next chapter. ;-)**

**Can anyone guess what Severus was thinking when he gave Draco his advice?**


	4. Need

**Author's Note:** Okay, I know that this is a little short, but as this is not my primary WIP, you guys can either have a short chapter every few days or a longer one every five or six. Let me know your preference.

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, doesn't belong to me, etc. etc.

* * *

Hermione could have cried with relief when she retreated to her private room after dinner. The day had been one of the longest of her life. She'd been horribly trapped between an aching desire to examine everything between Draco and herself and a complete aversion to that very thing. It had all been compounded by the classes that forced her into proximity with him, and by trying to hide her thoughts from her friends.

Back in her room, she collapsed onto her bed, willing her mind to go numb and leave her alone. Of course, it refused to do so. After a long time of lying listlessly, she rose and began pacing the narrow confines. Her traitorous mind brought her back to that dark corridor and all that had happened there from the very worst moments of pain and panic to the very best moments of sublime pleasure.

The ache between her legs made itself known, though it was considerably warmer than it had been that morning. She soon found herself driven to complete distraction, her breathing accelerating until she was clenching her thighs in need of release.

No, she told herself sternly. She absolutely refused to pleasure herself to that particular memory. Glancing at the small clock on her bedside table, she decided that she had to get out of her room. She hoped that her housemates would have gone to bed by now as it was nearly midnight.

She ducked out of her room warily to find the common room blessedly empty, and quickly made her way out into the darkened nighttime corridors. Her mind wandered over the events of the day while she meandered aimlessly, her feet knowing the corridors so well that she felt no need to light her wand. She did not realize where her feet had taken her until she found herself staring at the wall where _it _had happened.

Her stomach turned over in a surprisingly pleasant way as the memories came so vividly. She wasn't sure how long she'd been standing there before a sound behind her alerted her that she was no longer alone. After last night, she did not hesitate. Her wand was in her hand in an instant as she spun toward the source of the sound.

Unlike last night, Draco was entirely visible, standing in the middle of the corridor, his arms held out in supplication. "I didn't come to fight, Granger," he said quietly, "but I wouldn't blame you in the slightest if you hexed me."

Her hand tightened around her wand as she considered doing that very thing. There were even a few choice hexes on the tip of her tongue, but what he'd said – the way that he was standing – it was so very _un_Draco that she hesitated. "What do you want?" she asked quietly, proud and not a little surprised that her voice did not tremble with the emotions raging in her chest.

"I wanted to talk," he said, his voice quiet as well, wary, as though trying to calm a frightened deer – or an angry badger.

"Then talk," she said tightly.

His shoulders rose and fell with a breath that looked like relief. "About last night…" he started hesitantly. "I know that an apology isn't enough, but I'm not sure wh-what more I can give you."

Hermione paced toward him slowly, not sure if she was going to hex him or physically hit him. "Why?" she demanded when her wand was nearly touching his chest.

"Because, I _am_ sorry," he said slowly, his eyes twitching down toward her wand a couple times.

"No," she growled. "Why did you do it?"

His shoulders slumped noticeably. Evidently apologizing was a lot easier than answering that question. "I have no excuse," he whispered, his eyes falling to his feet.

"I didn't ask for an excuse," she hissed.

He flinched like she'd hit him. "I just wanted you to notice me," he said so quietly that it took her a moment to be sure she'd heard him correctly.

She lowered her wand slowly as she contemplated that. She might have expected just about anything else from simple lust to some twisted perception of revenge. But he'd done it because he wanted her to _notice_ him. Anger flared hot and fast and she didn't even realize what she was going to do until her left hand was burning from the slap she'd just laid across the side of his face.

He stumbled back a step, but made no further move. He didn't draw his wand or even look at her.

"You wanted me to _notice_ you?!" she almost shouted. "How could I _not_ notice you? You've been tormenting me at every opportunity since I met you!" She stepped forward and slapped him again. Hard.

She was breathing heavily as she stared at him, his shoulders bowed, his head down, not speaking, not reacting to her attack. His lack of reaction was making her even angrier. She just wanted him to scream at her, to duel her, anything! This terribly one-sided fight was not giving her the satisfaction she was looking for. And the way he was acting was so contrary to everything she'd ever known about the man that she almost wondered if he hadn't been Imperiused or something.

She lifted her wand again and slashed it at him, throwing him back against the wall. "How does it feel?!" she screamed at him, stalking after him until she was right in front of him. "How does it feel to be helpless?" she demanded.

He didn't move.

Infuriated by his unresponsiveness, she grabbed his jaw roughly and wrenched his face up until it met hers. And she froze. There were tears in his eyes, and down his cheeks. She had made Draco Malfoy cry. Why in Merlin's name could she take no pleasure in that?

He looked back at her, the look in those wet eyes utterly defeated.

Her chest began to feel tight as she stared at him. Her hand softened on his face and she found her thumb brushing lightly over his lips. _Merlin, what is wrong with me?_ She wondered as she was rapidly becoming completely fixated on those amazingly soft lips. The heat of her fury only moments before seemed to have no difficulty traveling lower to become a completely different kind of heat.

She didn't realize that she'd taken a step closer until her body was pressed against his. Every inch of her skin seemed to ache with the need to meet his with nothing more between them than sweat. She was swiftly losing the ability to think of anything except the pleasure she'd felt when he was inside her – the lust of his tongue in her mouth…

"By all that is holy, Malfoy, if you use this against me, I will hex you to within an inch of your life," she whispered fervently and then her lips crashed down on his.

After a moment, he responded, an almost desperate moan escaping his lips as he tried to lean into her despite being bound to the wall. Hermione flicked her wand and released his bonds before letting it fall to the floor so that her hand could join the one already in his silky hair. His arms closed around her in a roving embrace as his warm tongue slid into her mouth. His hands tangled in her hair, but there was something almost hesitant about the way he held her, as though he was preparing to withdraw at a moment's notice.

"Hermione," he mumbled around her lips.

She trembled slightly at the sound of her given name on his lips. The only other time she'd heard him say it without derision had been last night…

"Hermione," he tried again. "I don't want to do this here… You deserve better-"

She finally drew back enough to look at him, though she held him against the wall with her body. "Malfoy. I need you. Right now," she breathed, vaguely hoping that she didn't sound as desperate as she felt.

He sucked in a sharp breath at her words, and then he was all but attacking her again. His hold on her tightened and he spun them around so that her back hit the wall. "If you want me to stop, just tell me," he breathed around her lips.

"Shut up and take your clothes off, Malfoy!" she growled at him, her hands already fighting with his pants.

He drew his wand and the same spell from last night soon had them both completely naked. His wand immediately joins hers on the floor so that he could sink all ten fingers into the flesh of her ass. He lifted and she willingly curled her legs around his frame, which seemed to have filled out a bit from a few years ago.

She knew that she was already soaking wet and she just wanted him inside her. She reached one hand down between them and gripped him boldly, angling him to her entrance as she lifted herself.

"Oh, Hermione!" he gasped as he slid into her.

She gasped as well as a glorious combination of pain and pleasure surged out from her core and into every fiber of her body.

"Does it hurt?" he groaned, holding himself still inside of her.

"Gods, Draco, just DO IT!" she commanded so forcefully that it shocked her.

Blessedly, he obeyed and her moan echoed down the dim dungeon hall. They were far enough from populated areas of the castle that nothing short of some very bad luck would allow anyone to overhear them.

His pace increased as she turned her hips so that he could meet her more directly. She was still sore from yesterday, but that small agony just seemed to make everything sweeter. She felt like her entire body was slowly burning, but in the most wonderful way.

Everything else in the world faded beneath the onslaught of pleasure until nothing existed beyond their two bodies, joined physically and mentally at that moment to the point that they almost seemed one person.

His tongue laved the flesh of her neck and his teeth teased the tender skin as he slowly worked his way up to her jaw and the underside of her chin until his lips found hers once more. He kissed her deeply with passion so heady it was almost a drug. She moaned into his mouth and he immediately returned it, his thrusts growing heavier.

Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as her keening grew higher and higher, increasingly desperate the reach the edge that was so near now. "Draco…" she moaned, "…harder."

He complied with a grunt that sounded utterly incoherent and the angle changed just slightly so that he slammed into that one precious spot, throwing her violently from the ledge. For a moment, she couldn't even breathe and when her scream came, she could barely hear it for the ringing in her ears.

By the time she could think again, Draco was already shuddering through the last vestiges of his own release. After a long moment, he pulled himself out of her and lowered her back to the floor where she struggled to make her legs hold her weight. He kept a steadying hand at her waist while his other rose to brush away the wayward curls clinging to the sweat on her face. He studied her a moment before leaning in slowly to kiss her again. Slow, soft, unbearably tender kisses filled with more affection than lust. Hermione returned them, almost desperate for this moment to last longer. She knew what was waiting for her when they parted. Cold, empty, consuming loneliness.

Finally, after what had to be several minutes of his soft kisses, he drew his face away from hers while their bodies remained together. His eyes searched hers for a moment before he spoke, "Hermione, I-"

She didn't know what he was going to say, but, as it had that morning, panic suddenly flared in her chest and she couldn't wait to see what he would say. "This never happened, Malfoy," she heard herself saying, barely recognizing her hard voice. She pushed him away from her and turned toward the pile of clothes on the floor so she didn't have to see the look of surprised pain that had inexplicably filled his eyes at her interruption. She tried to ignore how cold she suddenly felt as she pulled her clothes over her sweaty body.

"I… Yeah, okay," she heard him say quietly as he too began sorting through the clothes. She tried to ignore the way that she could feel his eyes on her.

She finally snatched up her discarded wand – almost unable to believe she'd so easily parted with it – and was just about to walk away when a terrible thought suddenly gripped her. "Please tell me that you took a potion," she whispered, unable to turn around and face him.

"Yes. Last night," came his quiet reply.

She sighed heavily in relief before hurrying down the hall back toward her room, silently berating herself for not thinking of that little detail sooner. The average contraceptive potion lasted a week, so they were covered. All she needed was to graduate Hogwarts with a bastard child on the way.

Despite her lack of sleep the night before and the alarmingly sated relaxation of her body, sleep did not come easily that night. She found herself replaying parts of the last two days over and over again in her head. The way that Draco had offered to let her go last night, presumably when he'd realized that she was a virgin. The odd look in his eyes whenever she looked at him after. The way that he'd avoided her all day. The surprising confrontation in the corridor. The way he'd apologized. He'd said that he wanted her to notice him. The tears that had filled his eyes instead of anger after she'd screamed at him and repeatedly attacked him… The feel of his tender kisses against her lips. That pain in his eyes when she'd told him to forget the entire thing.

She replayed these things in her mind over and over again through most of the night before she could finally admit what she'd clearly known from the start. Draco Malfoy didn't just want to have sex with her. He actually _liked _her.

* * *

**Poor Draco. He got used. Some parts of this chapter felt a bit forced, so I'll apologize if you feel that way too. As always, I'd love to hear what you think. The good, the bad, the ugly, and so forth. And please let me know if you have an opinion on shorter chapters more often or longer ones less often.**

**Also, I've awarded 20 points to Slytherin for gemini-rose16, the only one to give me a correct answer to last chapter's question of what was on Severus' mind when he gave Draco advice about his problem. To those of you who didn't figure it out, he was thinking about his own fallout with Lily all those years ago. To everyone who figured it out and didn't bother answering... no house points for you. =P**


	5. A Little Bit More

**Author's Note:** All right. First things first. I need to send some mad props to onecelestialbeing for her fic Unintentional Inveiglement. It has been perverting my plot bunnies and inspiring me to all this sordid smut. That story is responsible for the last lemon and the next. You have her to thank for my frequent updates as well. I'd have never been inspired enough to put these together so quickly without her. Lots of love and many e-spankings, my dear!

To Montara- Thank you for the con crit. Always appreciated.

To vampire-fetish15- I completely agree, as you'll see. ;-)

**Now on with the show!**

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, come with me," Severus said just as Hermione was reaching their work station.

Draco felt his heart beating harder as he followed Severus back into his office before the start of class. He very carefully did not look at Hermione. He hadn't been able to figure out what all had happened last night between them. It seemed like she wanted him physically if no other way, but maybe it had just been some kind of revenge for the night before. Not that he minded that particular kind of revenge, but how cold she'd been after. That bothered him more than a little.

The door closed behind them as they stopped in front of Severus' desk. "As you know, Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy has asked to drop this class. Considering that his reasoning seems inadequate, and his doing so would leave you without a partner for the rest of the year, I have decided that the choice is up to you. If you would rather complete the school year alone, I will allow Mr. Malfoy to drop the class."

Draco chanced a peek at Hermione. She seemed to be thinking hard. She glanced very quickly at Draco, her expression unreadable. Her teeth worried her lower lip in a way that Draco tried very hard not to notice since this definitely was not the time or place to be getting aroused.

"No," she said finally, and Draco blinked in surprise.

"No?" he demanded. He'd been so sure that he knew how she would answer that. Even considering what had happened last night, she'd made it clear that she would rather avoid him – at least anywhere but dark dungeon corridors.

"No," she said again, more sternly, her eyes finally meeting his. "I refuse to kill myself for the rest of the year trying to do this alone. If you've got more classes than you can handle, you can just drop Arithmancy or something. No one is depending on you in that class. But if, as I suspect, you'd rather drop this class than work with me, you're just going to have to deal with that. I may be an annoying know-it-all, but I would think the latter an agreeable trait in a study partner." Her mouth opened again as though she was going to say more, but Severus finally reminded her of his presence by moving slightly behind his desk. Hermione's eyes darted toward him fleetingly, "No, sir," she corrected before fleeing the office.

Draco looked at his godfather, who looked very curious. He could only shrug.

"We'll speak after class, Draco," Severus said quietly before gesturing him back out into the lab.

This class went considerably more smoothly than the last. Hermione had evidently decided to treat him with cool civility. She met his eyes from time to time and did not flinch when their fingers brushed together, but there was absolutely no warmth in her either. When she spoke, it was strictly related to what they were doing and her tone as cool as Severus' could make his. There was absolutely nothing to suggest that they'd spent the last two nights having sex.

When the class ended, she seemed to notice that he was lingering. Her eyes darted toward Severus briefly before settling on him again and she almost looked like she was going to say something before her eyes hardened again and she swiftly left the room.

The door closed behind her and then he was alone with Severus again.

"You talked to her?" his godfather asked immediately.

Draco nodded, then changed his mind and shrugged, "I tried," he admitted. "Mostly she just yelled at me."

"Yet she is willing to spend the rest of the year working with you," Severus noted, propping himself against his desk. "What happened?"

Draco shook his head, "I'm not really sure. She hit me," he admitted.

"Physically? She didn't hex you?" Severus asked curiously.

"She seems to enjoy physically hitting me," Draco admitted gloomily. She'd done the same in third year.

"So she yelled at you and hit you, but chose to continue working with you… What else happened?"

Draco felt his cheeks heat as he hesitantly tried to explain how they'd ended up having sex – again – and how she'd turned so cold after.

Severus sighed heavily when he was done. "Well... that's unexpected."

Draco fervently nodded his agreement.

"At least I think it is safe to assume that your actions the night before didn't damage her too badly."

"What do I do now?" Draco demanded plaintively. "She still seems to hate me."

"Perhaps," Severus allowed. "But perhaps not so much as you think. Just be nice to her, Draco. You'll be spending some time alone with her thanks to your NEWT project. Let her see who you really are, and do try to hold that blasted Malfoy temper, would you? If she decides that she wants nothing more to do with you, you will have to deal with that. No more forcing her in _anything_."

Draco nodded his agreement. "No. Never again."

"Good. Now get to class."

^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^

Hermione spent the entire walk up to the seventh floor trying to figure out why she hadn't just said yes and gone on with her plan of avoiding Malfoy. True, the academic in her cringed at the thought of him missing his potions NEWT because of her, and it really would be much more difficult for her to complete the project on her own than with the admittedly competent Draco Malfoy helping out. But wouldn't it be worth the extra work to be spared his presence?

When it came right down to it though, she knew that she would have answered differently if she hadn't come to the conclusion last night that he actually liked her. For some stupid reason, that changed everything. It changed her perception of everything that had happened in the relative lifetime since he'd pinned her against that wall.

Of course she didn't feel the same for him. Not even close. Okay, so she was apparently desperate enough for some form of affection that she lusted after the annoyingly handsome man, but that didn't mean that she liked him. At all. In the post war world where her parents barely talked to her and her friends seemed to merely tolerate her as they were so caught up with their own romances, she had become very, very alone. Draco was the first person in a long time that had made her feel like – for a brief time – she was vital to him. Like she as the only thing that mattered. Even if it was only long enough to slake his lust.

He remained on her mind throughout the day, though she made an effort to avoid looking at him. The last thing she wanted was for him to know how much she was thinking about him – or to let anyone else find out.

Hermione barely touched her dinner as she couldn't stop thinking about the fact that she and Draco had to get together to talk about their NEWT project. Alone.

Though her heart was pounding and her palms were unaccountably sweating, she made her way over to him just as he was getting up from dinner. He looked surprised when he saw her waiting for him.

"We need to work on our Potions project," she said stiffly.

He nodded slowly, "Okay. Should we go to the library?"

She nodded and started in that direction. Thankfully, he didn't say anything on the way there. It wasn't until they entered the library that he spoke.

"So… did you have anything in mind?" he asked awkwardly.

"A few ideas," she admitted, "but I think we should do some research first. Put together a list of possibilities and then we can make a more informed decision. I'd rather not do something too common or predictable. The instructor is sure to be more impressed by something that he or she hasn't already seen a dozen other groups present."

He nodded his agreement, and it didn't even look annoyed or reluctant – maybe he was just trying to stay on her good side, but she could well imagine the look on Harry's face had she made such an argument to do extra research. "Okay. Let's see what we can find," he said agreeably.

They made their way to the potions section of the library and worked quietly side by side, selecting books and paging through them before deciding to put them back or hang onto them. When Hermione had as many as she could carry, she took them to the nearest table and sat down, selecting the one she'd found most promising while she retrieved parchment, quill, and ink so that she could begin taking notes on the potions that sounded appropriate for the project. Draco soon joined her, sitting at the opposite corner of the table, and began a similar process.

Hermione soon became so engrossed in her research that she forgot to be uneasy about her study partner. By the time she'd gotten through most of her pile of books and covered two feet of parchment with notes, Madam Pince was shooing them out of the library. She and Draco quickly gathered up their things and left the library. They walked together in silence for a little while until they came to the point when he would go down to the dungeons while she headed up to the seventh floor.

Hermione neither looked at him nor said a word as she hurried up toward her common room, grateful to finally be away from him even though a part of her wanted to follow him down to the dungeons and go for three nights in a row. She sternly berated that part all the way up to the seventh floor and thought she had it firmly cowed by the time she entered her common room.

Harry and Ginny was sitting on the sofa in front of the fire when she entered. Surprisingly, they seemed to actually be studying. Each had a book in their respective laps, though Harry's was on top of Ginny's feet. Harry flashed her a sympathetic frown when he saw her. "How'd it go?"

"Fine," Hermione answered automatically, realizing only afterward that it was actually true. "We did research on potions and barely said a word to each other. He's not terrible company when he's not talking or sneering – and you don't have to look at him," she added since she always took pains to fill them in on such minor details when she could do so honestly. Too often she had to avoid their questions or give generic answers.

Predictably, her friends laughed.

"I can't believe even Snape would be cruel enough to pair you with Malfoy for the whole year," Harry said sympathetically.

"Professor Snape," Hermione corrected automatically.

Harry continued as though she hadn't said anything. "It's almost as bad as him pairing me with Zabini. I'm much better at potions than he is. Ginny's lucky she got a Ravenclaw."

Hermione nodded though she secretly thought that Harry wasn't actually much better than Zabini. She did agree about Ginny though. There were only ten students in seventh year advanced potions, as Professor Snape was so stringent about allowing anyone into his NEWT classes, and they were spread out through all the houses except for Hufflepuff.

"Well, I'm a little tired," she said, already edging toward her room. "I think I'll just turn in for the night." She slipped into her room with nothing more than nods and wishes for a good night from her friends. She rarely spent much time in the common room if she could avoid it. Mostly that was because she couldn't stand to see the little shows of affection between her friends – like Ginny's feet in his lap. It made her feel like she was intruding and made her stomach ache with something that she was beginning to realize was loneliness if not longing. She honestly hadn't examined the feeling all that closely until it had briefly been relieved by her strange though enjoyable "episodes" with Draco. Malfoy.

She sighed in frustration, dropping her shoulder bag onto the bed and pacing the room restlessly. Her body ached from exhaustion, but she was so used to that that it barely phased her. Her mind was yet in high gear, particularly after an evening so close to Draco. She didn't think that she was so desperate as to actually pine after that man, but thoughts of chilly dungeon corridors kept popping into her head.

She almost snuck out when she deemed it late enough for the common room to be empty, but she had little doubt where her legs would take her if she left the tower. If Draco was there, she was pretty sure she knew what would happen. Even while part of her yearned for it, she knew that it would not be a good thing to do that again. And if he wasn't there, she'd just stare at the wall and _think _about… well, the more carnal bits.

She paced her tiny room until her knees threatened to give out, then finally collapsed on her bed, grateful beyond belief that she had a private room. All of the Griffindors that had returned to serve a seventh year that had been interrupted by the war had arrived to find private rooms. According to Professor McGonagall, the castle had done that on its own. She didn't know if the other houses had received similar accommodations, but she suspected that they had. Nothing she'd ever read or experienced had led her to believe that the castle itself was biased toward any particular house. It had been built by all four founding members, after all.

^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^

The next week passed surprisingly amicably despite the fact that Hermione was feeling increasingly trapped in her room as she did not allow herself to wander the corridors after curfew, and she spent every evening after dinner in the library with Draco.

They compiled more than four feet of parchment on possible potions – oddly Draco managed nearly as many as Hermione did. They then set to work on whittling down the list after agreeing on some basic parameters for their potion. The brewing time needed to be between one and two months in order to ensure that it was complex enough to warrant the best possible grade, but still give them time enough to practice it at least twice before starting on the one that would be graded. It also could have no less than twenty ingredients, but it couldn't have anything that was banned or prohibited for students to use, such as Veela hair or blood of any kind.

Those parameters knocked down their lists quite a bit. It also had to be something with an interesting effect so that they could demonstrate it for the instructor. While that wasn't actually a requirement of the project, Hermione thought that it would make their project more notable and interesting for the instructor, who must surely get bored after seeing so many.

Perhaps most surprising though, was the way that Draco was acting. He wasn't just cordial with her. He was… polite. Friendly even, as much as he could be when she didn't often reciprocate. Their most engaging discussions came when they were talking about some of the intricacies of the potions they were considering. Hermione often forgot to keep Draco at arm's length and they could go back and forth with what could be described as banter of their conflicting opinions, only being drawn from it when Madam Pince arrived to evict them for the evening.

It wasn't until the second week of working with Draco that Hermione actually began to see that their relationship had changed for one of tolerance to… something a little more. It was Tuesday in Potions when it happened.

"Bloody hell, Granger, don't add that now!" Draco barked in alarm.

Hermione stopped what she was doing and realized that she'd almost added the diced salamander livers before the crushed lavender blooms. An oversight that no doubt would have ruined the potion. "I'm sorry!" she said, quickly moving the erroneous ingredient away from the caldron. "I was thinking about our project, and-"

"Well think about _this _potion!" Draco demanded.

She barely managed to put the salamander livers back on the table before she devolved into a fit of giggles. She knew that the whole class must be staring at her, but she couldn't seem to stop.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked as though he was genuinely concerned that she'd lost her mind.

"If you could see your face!" she huffed, trying really hard to calm down before Professor Snape decided to give her detention for laughing in his class – she didn't doubt he'd justify it. The funny part was the look of utter panic in his eyes at the thought of botching a potion. It reminded her rather humorously of herself if she feared she might get zero marks for a lesson.

Draco's smile had been slow and uncomfortable, but he had smiled.

She'd managed to pull herself together without being snapped at by the crotchety professor, which had actually surprised her, and they'd completed the potion without any mishaps. It wasn't until she'd met her friends over lunch that she'd really comprehended what had happened. They'd been shocked, to say the least, by her uncharacteristic outburst, and it made her realize just how comfortable she'd actually become with Draco. True, she did sometimes fantasize about locking him in the storage cupboard and doing some highly inappropriate things, but working with him had become almost enjoyable.

No, it _was _enjoyable. His sense of humor was usually dry, and frequently at someone else's expense, but he did often make her smile – even if it was grudgingly. Sometimes he even made her laugh. When she started thinking about it, she realized that she hadn't smiled and laughed so naturally since the war had ended.

It unsettled her a bit that Draco Malfoy was the one to bring those things out in her, but maybe it was simply that she allowed herself to be herself around him. She didn't put up her mask because she honestly didn't give one lick if he thought she was moody or depressed. Had the fact that she'd stopped _trying _to smile actually allowed her to smile for real? She didn't want to think about the other possibility, but of course her quick mind wouldn't stop while it was ahead. It was remotely possible that it wasn't her attitude so much as his company that was affecting her.

"Polyjuice," Draco suggested that evening. "It takes a month to brew and it's quite complex. I think it would be a good fit."

"No," she dismissed immediately, without taking her nose out of the book that offered another variation on the potion that she was currently vying for.

"Why not?" he demanded after she was silent for a moment.

"It's too easy," she said, still reading and paying him very little mind.

"Easy?" he griped. "Have you even looked at the recipe?"

She finally lowered her book to look at him. "Malfoy, I brewed that potion in my second year."

"What?" he sputtered.

"You heard me," she said primly, trying to hide her smile as she recalled the _reason _that she'd brewed it.

"How?" he pressed.

"Well, I had to… acquire the ingredients, and brew it secretly of course," she mumbled, stuffing her nose back into her book.

"In _second _year?"

She shrugged.

"Why?" he finally asked.

She cleared her throat quietly. "There's only one reason to use that potion," she evaded.

"Fine," he growled, obviously irritated. "Who were you impersonating?"

She peeked over her book, wondering if she should tell the truth.

That haughty look he was directing at her in his irritation was enough to make her go through with it.

"I didn't use it," she lied, since she was _absolutely _not going to tell him about her little mishap. "Ron and Harry did."

He lifted an eyebrow, waiting for more.

"Crabbe and Goyle," she said quickly, lifting her book to hide her face.

After a brief moment of silence, his pale hand closed around the top of her book and yanked it down. "Why?" he demanded.

"To interrogate you," she said, a small bubble of laughter escaping from where she'd contained the rest.

His eyes were huge as he stared at her with an expression that seemed stuck between shock, affront, and admiration. "Why would you do that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Ron and Harry were convinced that you'd opened the Chamber of Secrets," she confessed, glad that she'd never really believed that.

He looked flummoxed for a minute. "Me?! How could you think it was me?"

"Come on, Malfoy," she chastised. "Half the school thought it was you! You're the bloody Prince of Slytherin."

"Well, what happened?" he asked uneasily. "Did it work?"

She nodded. "Not incredibly well – the plan, mind you; the potion was perfect – but it worked well enough to hear you confess that it wasn't you. It took them forever to find you and the potion had nearly worn off by the time they got you to talking."

"I can't believe you did that," he said, looking completely shocked still.

"If it's any consolation, I didn't hear about anything… untoward happening, though you did say some rather nasty things about all three of us, I think."

"I was a wanker in second year," he frowned.

She laughed, "I'm glad you said it."

He responded by grabbing her book and lifting it in front of her face again. "Let's just look for something else," he sighed.

She continued to snicker behind her book a little longer before becoming lost in it once more.

* * *

**Okay, so evidently no one has any opinion on chapter length. I think I'll take that as license to do whatever I bloody well feel like. A huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed. To everyone else, it's never too late to try. I love to hear your opinions as well as constructive criticism and it really does inspire me to come back to work on this story more often. More reviews=More updates. Just something to think about. ;-)**


	6. Holiday

**Author's Note:** I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Dramione13 and "Starting Anew", after reading which, I was inspired to write this entire chapter yesterday afternoon.

I'll also note that this chapter is on the long side, but there was no good place to break it up. I do hope you're not too disappointed. ;-)

* * *

"Sigmund's Supremacy," Hermione said confidently when she and Draco were alone in Severus' office after their potions class. It had taken two weeks, including several hours each weekend day for them to finally decide on a potion. Draco was less than wholly surprised that Hermione had ended up getting her way.

Severus looked between the two of them. His expression would have been unreadable to anyone else, but Draco could see thoughtfulness in his eyes. "I have spent the last two weeks rejecting potions that a very intelligent _second _year could manage," he finally drawled with a notable sneer at Hermione.

Hermione shifted in clear discomfort but managed to hold Severus' gaze. Which was impressive, if not particularly wise.

"I does not surprise me that the two of you would manage to bring me an idea from the opposite end of the spectrum. Sigmund's Supremacy is not an advanced potion. It is a master's potion," he said disdainfully.

"We've gone over the recipe many times, sir," Draco admitted, trying to draw his godfather's disdain away from Hermione. "I think we can manage it."

"I'm certain that we can," Hermione corrected immediately.

Draco frowned at his obviously poor choice in wording. "That's what I meant," he defended.

"But it's not what you said," she snapped. "There's a very large difference between 'think' and 'know', Malfoy. We've been going over this all weekend. We'll have to time it carefully, but there is nothing in this potion that should prove beyond either of our abilities."

"Assuming that you don't get distracted," he pointed out yet again.

"I won't!" she snarled. "That happened one time, Malfoy. _Once_! I said that I was sorry, and it hasn't happened again, now has it?"

"I'm just trying to say that we can't afford any mistakes-"

"Well, if there are any mistakes, they certainly won't come from me! You talk as though you've never made a mistake in your life! Don't think I've forgotten that you nearly blew up the potions' lab in our second week back."

Draco frowned. He's almost forgotten about that. He was surprised that she remembered it. "I never said that I don't make mistakes, Granger!" he said irritably. "All I was trying to say is that we'll have to be really careful-"

"Desist!" Severus growled, reminding them both that he was still there.

Draco felt his cheeks heat and noticed that Hermione was blushing as well as they both turned back to the irritated potions' master.

"If the two of you can manage to stop bickering long enough to complete this potion I shall be extremely surprised."

Hermione opened her mouth like she was going to defend herself, but Severus shot his glare over to her and she closed her mouth again.

"Still, your work is generally good enough that I will allow you to _try _it," he went on grudgingly. "I will give you one chance. If you fail to produce something at least resembling your goal, you will have to find another potion."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione said quietly though there was a light of triumph in her eyes.

"The secondary lab will be open after dinner until curfew for you to work on your project. If your potion demands attention at other times, you will consult me about it and receive my prior approval."

"Yes, sir," Hermione responded more eagerly.

"Now get out," he said wearily.

Hermione almost sprinted for the door.

Draco paused to offer Severus an apologetic shrug. His godfather gave him a look that clearly asked what he saw in her. Draco grinned in response and followed his favorite witch out of the office.

^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^

"We should get started on the potion right after the holiday," Hermione said as soon as Draco caught up to her on their way out of the dungeons.

"Right. You're spending the holiday with your family?" he asked, his voice more subdued than she'd have expected. She glanced at him curiously to see him looking at the floor as they walked. His parents were in Azkaban, she recalled.

"Um, no," she said quietly. "I didn't get an invitation."

"Invitation?" he said curiously.

She sighed, "I haven't really talked to my parents all that much since the war."

"Why not?" he asked hesitantly as they started up the stairs.

"I sent them into hiding at the end," she admitted. "I… tampered with their memories. They were not very happy with me when I set them to rights."

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

"So I'll be here over the holidays," she concluded briskly, trying to lighten the conversation.

"Oh," he said more brightly. "Then we can get an early start."

"You'll be here?" she asked, surprised.

"I don't exactly have anyone waiting for me at home," he said harshly.

"Oh. Right. I… ah. Sorry." She really had no idea what to say to that. It wasn't like she was sorry that his parents were in Azkaban after all they'd done to her and her friends, though she had been a little surprised that Narcissa hadn't gotten more leniency given her actions at the end to help Harry. Hermione had been at the trial though – as a witness concerning her own experience at Malfoy Manor. Narcissa hadn't expressed any regret for her actions. The only thing she'd done had been to beg for leniency for Draco. Whatever she'd done, it was clear that she loved her son.

"Merlin, don't apologize, Granger. My parents are where they deserve to be. If you knew half of the things that they did during the war…" He shook his head angrily. "I'm not fishing for your pity!" he snapped, then picked up his pace, hurrying into the Arithmancy classroom before she could try to say anything.

She sighed unhappily as she settled into her seat. She thought that her situation was bad, but she had never really considered Draco's. Granted, she'd probably have thought it served him right if she ever had thought about it, but that was before she'd started to get to know him this year. He really wasn't the bastard he used to be.

She'd thought that Harry, and Ron and herself by extension, had had about the worst possible hand during the war. Now that she was thinking of it though… Well, being forced into being a Death Eater and trapped right under that madman's nose may have been even worse.

She forced those thoughts out of her mind as the class started. The war had been terrible for all of them. There was no point in trying to decide who would win the most awful life award. All they could do now was try to move on – something that she hadn't yet figured out how to do.

When the class ended, Draco was the first one out the door, but Hermione had been prepared for that and she was right behind him. "Malfoy, wait!" she called, grabbing his arm when he seemed intent on lengthening his stride further

He stopped, his lips pinched into a thin line. He didn't look at her. "If you're about to say something about my parents or the war, I'll warn you right now that I might hex you," he said quietly.

She resisted the urge to touch her wand, but kept her grip on him, since she was holding the elbow of his wand arm. "Look, I didn't know what to say when that came up," she admitted quietly. "I really didn't mean to insult you."

He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose with his left hand. "Are you actually apologizing to me, Granger?"

"Yes," she said uncertainly.

He finally looked at her, searching her face as if he didn't believe her. "Apology accepted then," he said quietly and started walking again, at a more reasonable pace this time. She finally released his arm but paced him on the way down to the first floor.

"Sorry I threatened to hex you," he mumbled.

"Apology accepted," she smiled slightly. "So when do you want to start on the potion?" she asked lightly.

"Any time after the start of the holiday," he shrugged.

"Well, the train leaves on Saturday, so we could start on Sunday morning, I suppose," she suggested.

"Are, ah, any of your friends staying over the holiday?" he asked without looking at her as they both shrugged into their heavier cloaks and mufflers before going outside.

"No," she admitted. "Neville's spending the holiday with his gran and Luna with her dad. Harry's going to the Burrow with Ginny. They invited me, but I think that working on this potion will be a good enough excuse to stay."

"Excuse?" he asked shrewdly.

She shrugged uncomfortably, "The Burrow gets a bit crowded during the holidays. I'd probably end up sharing a room with Ginny, and Harry would be in there constantly. No, I'd much rather be here with some peace and quiet."

"My house is too quiet," Draco admitted as they finally stepped out into the snow.

Hermione immediately huddled deeper into her cloak and drew out her wand to cast a quick warming charm. She was afraid of insulting him again, so she kept her mouth shut. It wasn't until she saw the shocked looks on her friends' faces when she entered the greenhouse that she realized she'd walked with Draco the entire way between classes. And they hadn't even argued.

They parted toward separate ends of the greenhouse and she took her typical place next to Ginny, who seemed to be trying to read her mind by the intense way she was staring.

"What?" Hermione finally whispered.

"You came in with Malfoy," Ginny replied impatiently.

"We both just came from Arithmancy, Ginny," Hermione said irritably. "We were just discussing our potions project. Really, it's not as though we were snogging."

Ginny shivered visibly at the very idea of that and Hermione quickly turned her attention back to Professor Sprout, hoping that she wasn't blushing too obviously. She wasn't sure what was so horrible about the idea of snogging Draco anyway. He was quite good looking, and he was an amazing kisser…

She stopped that line of thought right there. She was _not_ going to fantasize about Draco Malfoy in the middle of class. She saved that for when she was alone at night.

^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^

With all the planning for their potion complete, there was no need to see Hermione after dinner for the rest of the week, which left Draco incredibly annoyed. He still got to work with her in potions, and they shared the majority of their classes, but potions was the only one in which they actually talked. Most of the time they occupied opposite sides of the room.

He caught her between classes when she wasn't draped in her friends, and made an effort to engage her in any conversation that came to mind. It was usually something about their classes, but he liked talking to her regardless of the topic.

He'd liked her since fourth year and he'd become something like obsessed with her since the end of the war. Now that they were getting to know each other on a level that could almost be considered friendship… After those two nights they'd been together… She seemed to fill his thoughts day and night. He found himself almost desperate to find a way to tell her that he wanted to be more than friends.

There were only five students in the entire school that had stayed over the holidays, he discovered when he arrived for dinner on Saturday night. He was surprised to find that the house tables were gone, leaving the only place to sit the head table, to which had been added extra chairs to accommodate the remaining students. Thankfully, the seat next to Hermione was vacant.

"A Griffindor eating next to a Slytherin," he smirked as he sat down. "If this isn't a recipe for disaster, I don't know what is."

Hermione laughed quietly. "As our Potions' NEWT is dependent upon our continuing cooperation, I highly doubt you'd try to poison me."

"I realized that right before I picked up the Baneberry Potion that I keep in my sock drawer," he drawled.

She elbowed his arm lightly, but she was smirking.

"I see that you're both still alive," Severus grouched as he swept up to the table and took his customary seat with a derisive glare at the younger students sitting across from him, who visibly shrunk beneath his gaze. "I must say, I'm somewhat surprised," he added with a glance toward Draco and Hermione.

"We were just discussing that, actually, sir," Draco smirked. "We've decided not to kill each other until after our NEWTs."

There was mirth in Severus eyes as he frowned at them before turning his attention to his plate and ordering his meal.

"Mr. Malfoy," the headmistress said in a warning tone.

"It's okay, Professor," Hermione chimed in. "It's actually true. We've called a truce since we have to work together on our Potions' project."

"I'm glad that you were able to work it out, Miss Granger," the headmistress said in that warmish tone that she reserved for her own house.

"Of course, once our NEWTs are done and we've both got exemplary marks, all bets are off," Draco couldn't help but add.

Hermione's knee thumped his under the table and he tried to hide his smirk as the headmistress scrutinized him.

"Leave them alone, Minerva," Severus snapped irritably. "Once they've both graduated they will have ample opportunity to kill each other at their leisure. At present, I would like to eat in peace."

"Professor Snape," Hermione spoke up far less timidly than most students would address the man.

"Miss Granger," he ground out as he paused in the process of preparing to take his first bite.

"I'm sorry, sir. I just wanted to ask if it would be okay for us to start our potion tomorrow morning. Since we're both here for the holidays, it seems only logical that we get started on it now. We'll have more opportunity to-"

"Yes, Miss Granger," Severus snapped. "Tomorrow after breakfast provided that you cease your incessant rambling and allow me to eat my dinner in peace."

Hermione immediately pressed her lips together as though trying to physically prevent herself from uttering so much as a reflexive "thank you".

The rest of the meal passed pretty quietly as none of the students seemed willing to so much as breathe heavily and risk inviting the ire of the potions' master. The other teachers talked quietly, but no one said anything to Severus.

When they were finished, Draco and Hermione left together, walking slowly in the direction of the stairs.

"Professor Snape is your godfather, right?" she asked curiously once they were alone in the corridor.

"Yes," Draco frowned. "And I know that you and your friends don't like him much, but please don't think that I'll be amenable to listening to your disparaging remarks."

She looked at him with wide eyes. "No! That wasn't what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean?" he asked cautiously.

"I have the highest respect for him," she said earnestly. "It's true that he hasn't always been nice to me – well, never actually – and I really don't think that he likes me very much, but after all he went through in the war, I think he's entitled to be as crotchety as he wants. I was just…" she sighed as though trying to figure out how to phrase it. "I was just wondering… Is he always like that? Does he ever smile?"

Draco was as shocked by her statement as her questions, but he didn't immediately answer since Severus was standing right behind Hermione and had been for a little while now. She was clearly unaware of his presence, so Draco let his eyes meet his godfather's.

Hermione's eyes widened as she seemed to catch on and she turned around slowly, taking a step back to stand at Draco's side instead of right in front of Severus. "Hello, sir," she said very quietly.

Severus stared at her for a long moment and Draco thought that he was considering how to respond. Finally, a smirk curled his lip. "No, Miss Granger," he drawled. "I never smile. Have a good evening," he added as he swept passed them and down toward the dungeon.

Hermione turned her wide eyes on Draco. "Did he just say 'have a good evening?"

Draco laughed heartily. He couldn't help it. She looked like she was about to faint. "I think he just ensured that you won't be able to say he's _never _been nice to you again. Enjoy it. It's probably the last time it'll happen."

A small, nervous laugh bubbled up her throat. "So he does have a sense of humor," she concluded.

"Of course he does," Draco glared lightly. "He's really not that bad."

She seemed to consider that for a moment, and then shrugged in an unspoken "if you say so".

"What are you doing now?" Draco asked as she started to edge toward the stairs.

"I'm not sure," she frowned. "I'm the only Griffindor here over the holidays, so I thought I might enjoy the quiet in the common room for a while. Maybe do some reading."

"Would you want to work on our Arithmancy essay?" he wondered.

"Sure," she smiled as though she was really excited about studying Arithmancy. Considering that it was Hermione, she most likely was. "I'll just go get my book and meet you at the library?" she suggested.

"Perfect," he agreed and started down the stairs with a smile.

Draco ducked into his common room, ignoring the extremely bored-looking second year attempting to play chess by himself, and hurried back to his room to collect his Arithmancy book and class notes before heading back up toward the library. He'd been worried that he'd end up spending the entire night sitting in his room trying not to think about Hermione, but maybe she was bored too considering that she was the only Griffindor student in the castle at present. He was glad he'd thought of Arithmancy. He and Hermione had never just worked on homework together unless it was for potions, so this felt like a step in the right direction.

When he got up to the library, he found Hermione leaning against the wall with a frown on her face and her book hugged across her chest.

"It's closed?" he frowned, looking at the closed doors.

"Madam Pince went on holiday," Hermione frowned, looking incredibly distressed by the thought of two weeks without access to the library. "What if we need to research something for our potion?"

"Not likely," he consoled. "We may know more about that potion than Sigmund even."

She frowned at him, but didn't argue his point. "Where else could we go?" she muttered to herself. "If you were in Griffindor, I'd say the common room, since there's no one else there, but-"

"Why not?" he posed. "If there's no one else there, who's to care?"

Her brow rose. "You'd actually want to hang out in the Griffindor common room?"

He shrugged, "As long as there aren't too many Griffindors around."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, all right then."

He could honestly care less where they were as long as she was there. He followed her all the way up to the seventh floor where she muttered a password to the fat lady portrait, which glared at Draco and Hermione in turn before grudgingly opening to admit them.

"She's a bit temperamental," Hermione said quietly as they walked inside. "You guys are lucky you don't have a portrait to deal with."

"How do you know?" he asked suspiciously.

"Honestly, Malfoy," she frowned. "Do you really think I could go here for seven years and not figure out where your common room is hidden?"

"Fair enough," he said suspiciously, looking around the almost sickeningly red room. "All right. So where do you want to do this?"

Hermione smirked at him like she knew exactly what he was thinking of the room before she turned and led him to the sofa in front of the fire.

^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^

By the time they finished their essays, Hermione's hand was cramping and her back was protesting from spending so much time hunched over her parchment and book. With a sigh, she reclined back against the armrest and stretched her arms toward the ceiling before kicking her feet up in front of her. After just a moment's hesitation, she stretched out her legs and plopped her feet down in Draco's lap.

He looked at her feet, then looked at her with a look of utter indignation.

She laughed at him and summoned a pillow from across the room with a wandless _accio_, tucking it under her head as she slouched down a bit more on the sofa.

"Are you comfortable?" Draco asked sarcastically.

"Mmn. Quite," she mumbled, closing her tired eyes. Her eyes flew open again a few moments later when she felt his hands on her foot. "What are you doing?" she asked suspiciously.

"It looks like I'm giving you a foot massage, Granger," he smirked at her unease.

She was about to snap something in reply when his thumb dug into just the right spot and she changed her mind. Dropping her head back onto the pillow, she groaned softly. "Okay, then," she smiled after a minute.

He methodically worked his way over one foot, then gave just as much attention to the other before his hands slid up to her calves and continued their work.

His fingers felt divine as they kneaded her muscles into utter relaxation.

"If you're trying to seduce me, it won't work," she lied, her eyes still closed as she enjoyed the tactile pleasure

"Really?" he responded quietly. "That's too bad."

There wasn't enough humor in his voice. She cracked open one eye to check his expression and found him watching her with one pale eyebrow raised, his face serious. Her other eye came open and the room seemed to become suddenly much warmer. "I was joking," she said warily.

A slight smile curled his lips. "Oh. Good." His ministrations moved up to her thigh though his eyes never left hers.

She swallowed hard, her mind racing while she watched those intent silvery eyes. If she was going to stop this, she had to do it right now. She needed to tell him to stop. To tell him to leave. She needed to-

Oh, Merlin, but that felt good when he slid his fingers heavily along her thigh. It wasn't as if they hadn't done it before, but that had been when she hated him. Now he was starting to feel like a friend. As backward as that logic was, she was very much afraid of ruining their newfound camaraderie.

His attention moved to her other thigh and she sighed in pleasure. Gradually, his hands worked their way up to her hips and then slid up her waist before he pressed them into the sofa on either side of her and leaned his body over hers so that his lips were hovering just over hers. She felt his breath against her lips and shuddered slightly as she remembered how soft those lips were. Her tongue came out to moisten her lips, her breath coming heavily as the heat of his body so close to hers made her ache to close that little distance.

His eyes fell to her lips when she licked them, evidently taking her small gesture as an invitation as he leaned down just a little to press his lips very lightly against hers.

She moaned instantly, her hands rising to his chest and sliding along his shirt until she could draw it out of his trousers to reach his skin.

He supported himself with one hand while his other cupped her jaw and he moaned when her hands slid across his bare skin beneath his shirt. She moved her hands around to his back and when she pulled, he obliged, lowering his body onto hers. He tucked one arm beneath her pillow to support him on his elbow and his other hand closed softly around her breast.

She moaned more loudly, trembling beneath his touch and pressing her chest up into his hand while she deepened their kiss.

After a moment, his lips left hers, trailing down her jaw and then suckling and nibbling at her neck in that way that drove her completely crazy. She gasped and hooked one leg around his waist, needing him even closer to her.

"Hermione, I want you," he whispered, his lips ghosting over the moistened skin of her throat.

"I'm not exactly fighting you," she breathed unevenly.

She almost screamed in disappointment when he sat up, but then his long fingers closed around the hem of her shirt and started to draw it up. She lifted her arms helpfully and he removed the garment, tossing it over the back of the sofa while his eyes drank in the flesh he'd bared. His hands went to her waist and rose slowly, igniting her skin with every gentle touch. One hand slid around behind her back and her bra clasp was opened so quickly she wondered if he'd used magic. He worked one finger between her breasts beneath the bra and he tugged it off gently, his eyes remaining on her while the bra followed her shirt into unimportance.

While she very much wanted his hands to follow his eyes onto the skin he'd bared, she realized that he was still fully dressed and reached awkwardly for the bottom of his shirt.

His eyes met hers again when he realized what she was doing and he smiled before lifting his arms so that she could pull it off him. She wasn't accustomed to undressing anyone but herself and the neck of his shirt caught on his ear as she tried to hoist it over his head. She heard him chuckle as he moved to help her, and then the stupid shirt was gone. She found herself staring at him with just as much attention as he'd given her. She'd felt that soft skin sheathed lightly in sweat beneath her fingers, but this was the first time she'd actually gotten a good look at it. He looked good enough to eat.

She splayed her hands across his shoulders and slowly drew them down over his chest. For the first time in her life, she found herself actually appreciating Quidditch for the way it had sculpted the muscles that trembled slightly beneath her touch. He had a few silvery scars scattered across the smooth skin. While she wondered about them, they didn't detract from his beauty in the slightest.

Warm fingers curled beneath her chin and tipped her face up toward his where his mouth caught hers in a soft but heated kiss that left her trembling for more. He eased her back down onto the sofa and kissed his way down her neck again, then over her collarbone, exercising infuriating levels of patience before those soft lips finally closed around one of her hardened nipples. She moaned as he teased it with his tongue, then hissed excitedly when his teeth closed lightly around it.

He ministered to each nipple with equal attentiveness while she squirmed with need of more. The last two times had been nothing like this. They'd been frantic with need and a bit painful – well a lot painful the first time – a riot of pleasure, but nothing at all like this. This was more like divine torture.

Finally, he moved lower, kissing his way down her stomach, and his fingers snaked beneath the waist of her skirt, sliding along it until they came to the clasp, which was quickly dealt with. He didn't lift his lips from her skin until he leaned back to tug her skirt and knickers off. He did so slowly, watching her with rapt attention the entire time. She felt a little self-conscious considering that this was the first time he'd really seen her either, but it was difficult to doubt that he liked what he saw when his eyes were filled with such desire.

When the skirt was gone, those sinful lips fell to her inner thigh and she was almost crying with anticipation as he moved closer and closer to the soft curls guarding her most intimate parts. It was impossible not to remember exactly how wonderful it had felt when he'd done _that_ before.

Just when she was becoming seriously tempted to take a couple fistfuls of his hair and force him right where she wanted him, he at last obliged. She groaned loudly as his tongue finally slid between her folds and fisted the pillow beneath her head to remove the temptation of reaching for his hair.

He was still moving far too slowly for her, as though he meant to kill her through sheer anticipation. Every time his tongue rose to tease her sensitive nub, her hips bucked slightly, but then he would move lower again. She was so frustrated that she almost wanted to cry even though he was making her feel absolutely wonderful.

Finally, he returned to her nub and stayed there. One arm came to rest across her hips as she tried to ride his face and he pressed down firmly, holding her in place while his tongue drove her toward blissful oblivion. Just when she was certain that he was about to drive her completely and irrevocably mad, one long finger sunk into her core and she exploded, screaming her pleasure into the vacant common room until she ran out of breath.

When her senses began to return, she realized that her hands had betrayed her as they were now buried in his soft platinum hair. She released him immediately, hoping that she hadn't hurt him.

He lifted his face toward hers and it was definitely not pain she saw in his eyes. He stood up and removed his own trousers with an understated urgency that tightened the muscles across his shoulders and caused his hands to tremble. When he at last stood naked before her, she found her eyes drawn to his middle where his… manhood bobbed at full attention. It was… larger than she'd have thought. She could scarcely believe that it had fit inside her, though that didn't stop her from wanting it right back in there.

He climbed onto the sofa between her still splayed legs and a stab of panic suddenly hit her. "Wait!" she cried.

He froze, searching her face warily.

"Um," she said awkwardly. "Did you…? I mean, I haven't…" She took a deep breath and told herself that she was being stupid to be afraid to say it after what he'd just done. "A contraceptive potion," she forced out, her cheeks flaming.

He relaxed again, smiling, and leaned over her to kiss her softly. "Don't worry. We're covered."

She nodded uncertainly and tried to stop thinking as she felt his tip sliding lightly through her wetness, then more firmly.

"Do you want this, Hermione?" he whispered in her ear.

She nodded vigorously.

"Say it," he requested quietly.

"Yes," she murmured, then mustered her courage and continued in a stronger voice. "Yes, I want you, Draco."

He rewarded her with a light kiss just below her ear and slowly worked his way down her neck while his hand went between them and she felt him probing for entrance. Biting her lip in nervous anticipation, she rolled her hips a bit to give him a better angle. Despite the fact that everything down there was still soaked, he entered her slowly. It didn't hurt at all this time. Quite the opposite. By the time he was all the way inside her, she was nearly incoherent with pleasure and need of more. It seemed like it had been an eternity since he'd last made her feel this good, but at the same time, it was like he'd never left.

Trying to get the angle right as this was the first time she'd actually done it lying down, she hooked one ankle up over the back of the sofa and curled the other around his waist. And then he was hitting the spot that she wanted.

She cried out and his lips closed over hers. She felt his tongue slide into her mouth but she couldn't give it much attention for what else he was doing to her. His pace was slow, but it took only a few thrusts for her to come apart again.

She screamed into his mouth and dug her short fingernails into his shoulders while he began to move faster, somehow pushing her to even greater heights before she could begin to come down. He did not slow and she had only a brief respite before she was hit yet again.

This time he cried out too and she hung onto him for dear life as she rode through her most powerful orgasm yet.

"Oh…" she breathed when her sense began to return though her mind still felt sluggish. "Mmmn. That was… nice."

He drew himself out of her and removed her leg from the back of the sofa so that he could collapse next to her. "Just nice?" he huffed breathlessly.

"That's a compliment," she murmured sleepily. "My brain's so foggy that my vocabulary isn't working very well."

He chuckled and wrapped his arm around her, drawing her flush against him.

"_Accio_ blanket," she said as clearly as she could, catching the blanket that leapt from the armchair. With Draco's help they managed to get decently covered. She burrowed her face into the intoxicating scent of his chest and drifted away almost at once.

* * *

**All right, my perverted plot bunnies delivered. I've had to separate them by gender as they were starting to multiply… I do hope it was as good for you as it was for me. :-P**

**For those of you who were shocked by Severus' wishing them a good night, I'll just point out that he's trying to be nicer to Hermione for Draco's sake. I did give it a lot of thought and I'm convinced that it's not out of character for him in this fic. He's trying to move on after the war just like everyone else. ;-)**

**Sigmund's Supremacy, by the way, I made up. I spent quite a while looking up every known potion for this universe before deciding that anything properly advanced was also woefully overused in fan fiction already. You'll learn more about exactly what the potion does as we go.**


	7. From Here

**Author's Note:** Well, there's parts of this chapter that I'm really not too happy with still, but I didn't want to make you wait any longer. Hopefully it isn't too cumbersome to read.

* * *

Hermione woke with a smile on her face, warm and obscenely comfortable. As soon as she moved though, she realized that there was an arm draped across her stomach, and it didn't belong to her. And she was evidently completely naked sleeping on the sofa in the common room…

Swallowing hard, she cracked her eyes open to find Draco's head right next to hers on the small pillow. The previous night returned to her in a rush and she sighed as quietly as she could, trying not to wake him. She was trying really hard to think – to figure out what she was supposed to do now, and exactly how catastrophic a mistake last night had been. Her mind, however, remained alarmingly blank for a long time.

She was very aware of Draco's equally naked body pressed against hers, and of how incredibly wonderful it felt to wake up in his arms.

_This can't be happening!_ Her sluggish mind finally spit out. Merlin, how had she let this happen?

His arm suddenly tightened around her and his lips pressed against her temple.

It was all that Hermione could do not to moan and turn her lips toward his. "Draco?" she said instead. Tentatively.

"Hmm?" was his murmured response.

"Draco," she said more firmly.

"Yeah. What?" he mumbled sleepily.

"We need to talk," she said uneasily.

"Bloody woman," he grumbled, but he didn't really sound upset. "In the morning."

"It _is_ morning," she complained, then finally noticed the angle of the sun slanting into the room. "It's morning!" she gasped, sitting bolt upright, then quickly turning her back on Draco as she realized that she was displaying her… assets rather prominently. "Malfoy, get up!" she snapped, casting around for her clothes and not wanting to get up and run around the room stark naked.

"Ugn. You're a morning person, aren't you?" he moaned plaintively.

She finally spotted her blouse behind the sofa and _accio_'d it to her, tugging it on over her incredibly wild hair. She found her knickers halfway across the room tangled in her skirt and _accio_'d that as well, slithering into them without getting all the way up. "We're late!" she snapped at Draco, casting a quick tempus. "Yes!" she declared. "We were supposed to be in the potions lab ten minutes ago! Get UP!"

With that, she got up herself and sprinted up to her room to find clean clothes, the entire time trying not to think about Draco naked in the next room and praying that he was getting up. Professor Snape was likely to deny them access to the lab for the rest of the holiday for making him wait.

She cast a quick cleansing charm on her own body to remove the lingering… evidence of last night's… Whatever it had been. Another charm untangled her hair, and she bound it into a messy bun, before hurrying back out of her room while she was still shrugging into her school robes. Draco, bless him, was up and getting dressed. He'd made it as far as his trousers. It was a huge effort to ignore his naked chest while she scooped up her remaining clothes and sent them to her room before dropping herself onto the sofa. She pulled on her trainers and laced them hastily, trying really hard not to snap at Draco for not moving faster when he pulled on his jumper.

When he sat down to put on his shoes, Hermione ran back up to her room again and snatched up her bag, checking to make sure that all of her potions books and notes were inside. When she got back down, Draco was ready.

"Let's go," she said in a near panic. How long had it taken them to get ready? Another five minutes? It would take at least five more to get down to the lab. Twenty minutes late… Professor Snape was going to be furious!

"Hermione!"

His use of her given name stopped her in her tracks and she turned to look at him even though she was practically vibrating with the need to keep moving. He stepped into her with perfect confidence and caught her lips with his, kissing her slow and deep though his hands held her face and didn't stray.

When he drew away, it took a huge effort not to fall into a puddle at his feet. Merlin, but that man could kiss!

"We _are_ going to talk about this," he said quietly but sternly.

Hermione nodded in response to what sounded like nothing less than a threat, then remembered the surly potions' master and took off again. She practically ran all the way down the stairs with Draco close behind. She was very glad that they didn't meet anyone in the hall. When they reached the Slytherin common room, Draco told her that he'd meet her there and hurried inside to collect his own papers.

She reached the potions lab at a full run and skidded to a stop just inside the door, finding herself almost chest to chest with Professor Snape. She hopped back with a small yelp and struggled to catch her racing heart before it could escape.

"Miss Granger," he said menacingly. "I'm _so _pleased that you could make it."

"I'm so sorry, sir!" she gasped. "I overslept, and-"

"Yes, I gathered that when you failed to come to breakfast. Contrary to what you may think, Miss Granger, I do have other things to do with my time than to arrange my schedule around your inconsistent sleeping habits."

Blessedly, Draco picked that moment to come skidding in behind her. He bumped into her back and nearly knocked her over before his hands closed around her waist and steadied them both. Feeling very much like prey being stalked by a lion, Hermione was too afraid to take her eyes off the professor to glance back, but she was glad that she could feel Draco's presence right behind her.

Professor Snape's eyes flickered briefly to Draco's hands as the latter hastily removed them, then rose to study his face. After a moment, he spun on the spot and strode toward the secondary lab.

Draco nudged her in the back and Hermione jumped to follow the professor.

"As no one else has bothered to begin a potion yet, you may choose any station," Professor Snape was saying when Hermione and Draco entered the lab behind him. "I will be brewing in my private lab, so I am trusting you to not blow up the lab if I am not here to watch you," he said that directly to Draco.

"Yes, sir," Draco nodded gravely.

"You have until lunch." And with that he swept out of the room, his billowing cloak following him.

Hermione sagged in relief when he was gone. "Merlin, I thought he was going to murder me."

"I told you he's not that bad," Draco pointed out.

"To _you_, I believe. That doesn't mean he won't kill _me _if I annoy him enough."

Draco chuckled and started toward the work station nearest the supply cupboard. He put his books and notes down on the table, shifting his notes until he found the page he wanted and studied it briefly, then started toward the rack filled with caldrons of various sizes and other assorted tools.

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to calm down as she too began to set up the table. Between the way she'd woken up and then realizing that they were late… She was still trying to catch her breath. "What are you doing?" she asked Draco as he returned with a caldron.

He looked at her curiously.

"That's a four liter caldron," she frowned.

He nodded.

"We need at least a six liter."

"Four is large enough," he argued.

"For a cold potion, sure," she snapped. "You do know that liquids expand as they heat, right?"

He glared at her.

"And when it simmers, we don't want it splashing all over the table-"

"You made your point!" he snapped, turned around and returning to the rack.

She shook her head after him and made her way to the supply cupboard to begin gathering ingredients.

"You really are an insufferable know-it-all," Draco said without rancor while she was perusing the shelves for ingredients.

She frowned but didn't comment.

"It's surprisingly endearing when it's not making me tear my hair out," he added with a smirk in his voice.

"Endearing?" she gaped, turning to look at him. That was one word that had definitely never been used to describe her compulsive tendency to correct everyone.

He just smiled and turned his attention back to setting up the instruments they'd need.

Hermione stared at him uncertainly for a moment longer, then tried to return her focus to their potion. She could _not_ afford to be preoccupied with anything else while trying to brew this potion and Draco was proving to be an enormous distraction. She was actually starting to suspect that he was doing it on purpose.

^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^

Draco spent four very long hours trying very hard to not even look at Hermione. If he did something to mess up this potion, she _would _murder him. While he was concerned that his work wasn't quite his best, he didn't manage to do anything catastrophic.

"Okaaay," Hermione said in an elaborately even voice as she carefully removed the stir stick. Once it was safely away from the delicate potion, she checked her pocket watch. "All right. It needs to simmer for fifteen and three-quarters hours before we bring the heat back up and add the distilled Acromantula venom, which we'll need to simmer for fourteen minutes before we can add, so we need to be back here by five-fifteen tomorrow morning."

Draco groaned softly. Five a.m. During bloody holiday.

"Don't even think about being late, Malfoy," she warned severely.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," he said quite honestly. Hermione could be quite scary when her grades were on the line, and he was pretty sure that she'd win in a straight-up duel.

She gave him a scrutinizing look and he hoped that his smile looked innocent.

"It is time for lunch," Severus' crisp voice drew both of their attention to the doorway.

"We're ready," Hermione assured him before quickly scribbling on the chart next to the potion the exact time that it needed to be tended next, then she scooped up her bag and Draco followed suit even though he doubted that they'd actually be using any of their potions books or notes before tomorrow morning.

Severus' curiosity seemed to get the best of him as he swept into the room to peer into their caldron. He observed it for a moment, then leaned over a little further and inhaled.

They were both staring at him, waiting for some kind of reaction. When he turned back toward them he just looked from one the other, then rolled his eyes slowly. "Lunch!" he snapped.

Draco jumped slightly as he wasn't expecting that, but Hermione jumped more and practically scurried out of the room. When he looked back at his godfather he caught the older man's eyes dart toward where Hermione had gone, then back to him and his brow lifted in silent question. He was asking about progress. Draco could only shrug. Until he had a chance to talk to her, he had no idea if they'd taken a step forward, back, or remained exactly where they were.

Severus cut his chin in the direction of the door and Draco took the silent order, hurrying to catch up to Hermione.

They took the same seats at the table as they had the previous night and McGonagall addressed Hermione almost immediately. "How is your potion coming, Miss Granger?"

"Pretty well, I think," Hermione frowned, and Draco noticed her dart a very quick glance toward Severus taking his seat before looking at the headmistress again. She worried her lower lip briefly. "I think that we probably diced the Lunis Roots too fine. The potion seemed to react more strongly than it should have. It's still stable, of course, and I think we may be able to correct it by increasing the whitebat guano by a milligram or two…"

Draco noticed that the three younger students at the table were starting to look a little green when she mentioned bat guano.

"Not fine enough," Severus interrupted quietly and every face turned towards him, more than one looking at him like he'd just grown a second head and started snarking at himself.

"Excuse me, Professor?" Hermione asked warily.

"The Lunis Root," he said impatiently. "You didn't dice it fine enough. Not enough juice could be removed when you strained it. That's why it overpowered the potion."

Draco smiled slightly and quickly hid it behind his water goblet. Severus was being nice to Hermione.

Her brow furrowed in thought for a moment and she started nodding, "Of course. I should have thought of that. Thank you, sir, I will make a note of that for the next potion."

Draco could tell that she'd forcibly stopped herself from rambling on as she always seemed to do concerning academia.

For a moment, the table was deathly silent except for the gentle scrape of McGonagall's fork against her plate as she alone seemed unphased by the discussion.

After staring her down like he was trying to dare her to say more, Severus continued, "You're right about the whitebat guano."

Hermione sagged so much with relief that she must have been all but bursting to ask that very thing.

Draco pressed his knee against hers under the table in a silent show of support and she cast him a small smile before concentrating on her food. By the way her brow knit again almost at once, he guessed that she'd gone back to brooding about the potion.

Severus had already returned to his plate, evidently intent to pretend that he was eating alone for the rest of the meal. The younger students looked too afraid to so much as chew loudly in such close proximity to Severus.

After a couple minutes, the few other professors present began talking amongst themselves. As for Draco, he was just trying to eat without staring at Hermione. He loved the look that she looked when she was concentrating like that. Her face scrunched up a bit, but her eyes were absolutely alive.

He finished eating before she did and sipped at his pumpkin juice just to have an excuse to keep sitting there. When he realized that she hadn't taken a bite in probably five minutes, he said her name quietly.

She looked at him and blinked a couple times.

"Are you done eating?" he smiled.

She looked at her nearly empty plate and the few small bits of food she'd been idly pushing around the plate. "Oh, yes."

He stood up and she followed him out of the Great Hall.

"Well, I guess I'll see you in the morning," she said distractedly as she started up the stairs.

Draco followed her up two flights before she realized that he was still there.

She looked at him uncertainly, "What are you doing?"

"Following you," he admitted. "We still need to talk."

She blushed furiously and swallowed hard at the reminder, but she did nod.

Draco waited until she looked away to gulp himself. If he hadn't learned to control his emotions in front of Voldemort he was certain he'd have been soaked in sweat at the very idea of this conversation.

^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^

Hermione couldn't believe that she'd forgotten about The Talk. Once they'd gotten started on the potion, she'd become completely absorbed in the challenge of it and almost completely forgotten about last night. Now she was just three more flights of stairs away from a talk that she could not believe was going to go well. Her stomach was doing summersaults and she could feel a mortifying blush burning across her cheeks that absolutely refused to go away. And her palms were getting sweaty. Like they did in the books. Good Godric, she'd always thought that was silly poetic license! She hadn't even realized her palms _could _sweat!

"Tipsing turnips," she mumbled to the fat lady and ignored the affronted look that she was directing toward Draco before she opened for them.

One look at the sofa was all it took to convince Hermione to go sit by the window. She couldn't even imagine how she'd feel when everyone came back and she had to watch Harry and Ginny snuggling on the sofa! She was sure she'd blush every single time anyone sat there. She may never sit there again.

Her brain seemed to have shifted into overdrive, throwing out every stupid thought except what she really should be thinking about. What she was going to say to Draco. Merlin, what was she going to say?!

She perched on the very edge of an armchair while he took the one across from her. He was studying her with what looked like concern.

"Are you okay?" he finally asked.

If possible, her blush deepened. "Um, I'm not really sure what to say," she admitted, _hating _herself for mumbling like some nervous first-year being reprimanded by a professor.

Draco took a deep breath, staring at her far too intently while she deliberately stared out the window at the grounds. A fresh layer of snow had fallen sometime since she'd last looked out there. When had that been? Since Harry and the others left for the train? It really was quite pretty. She'd always loved Hogwarts when it was covered with snow. But she loved it in the fall and spring when it was warm enough to sit out by the lake and read too.

"Hermione," Draco's voice completely shattered her amiable mental rambling, "I like you," he said quietly.

She shot a nervous glance at him. His face was gravely serious.

"A lot," he added. "As more than a friend."

She knew that she was breathing too heavily and prayed that she wasn't going to start hyperventilating. That would be so embarrassing.

"How do you feel about me?" he asked when she didn't say anything.

She glanced at him again. His eyes were closed and he looked braced for the worst. That expression on his face distracted her from her rising panic and she looked at him more fully. He really was beautiful. She'd always known that he was attractive, but he'd managed to temper that opinion by constantly sneering and slinging insults in the direction of her and her friends. But he was her friend now too, wasn't he? She enjoyed spending time with him. She really liked their academic conversations since he never seemed to have trouble keeping up with her. Well, most of the time he didn't. It was a lot better than anyone else her age. A lot.

She had even kind of come to enjoy arguing with him these last few weeks, she realized. Their arguments didn't turn into vicious verbal duels like they used to, but instead remained a light, teasing banter.

He cracked his eyes open when she still hadn't said anything, then looked at her more openly. He still looked really worried.

He did like her, she realized. He wouldn't look that vulnerable otherwise. The fact that she was capable of having this kind of an effect on him floored her, but she also realized that she was now capable of hurting him more surely than she ever had by insulting him or hitting him or even hexing him. It surprised her a little just how sick she became just thinking about hurting him.

But did she want to be in a relationship with him, for that was definitely what he was asking. Even she knew that and her dating IQ was shameful.

"Hermione?" he said warily.

"I'm thinking," she said quietly and he nodded.

Could she date Draco Malfoy? Her mind automatically began organizing pros and cons.

Pro: He was gorgeous and when they were together intimately he could make her forget that there had even been a war much less that she was still messed up about it.

Pro: She got along with him really well most of the time, and if they did fight, well they had enough experience with that that they'd probably get over it quickly. They'd definitely have a difficult time thinking up any insults they hadn't used many times before.

Pro: She felt comfortable being herself with him – something that she'd almost forgotten she could do.

Con: Things might change between them if their relationship changed. Would she still feel like she could be herself with Draco her _boyfriend_? Or would she feel like she had to hide her pain from him like her other friends?

Con: All of their friends hated each other. Their relationship would be tolerated at best and they'd be ostracized at worst.

Con: Their houses were bitter rivals. Well, that was similar to the last one, but needed to be noted anyway. No one would understand. They risked being ostracized by half the school rather than just their friends.

Con: He was a pureblood and she was a muggleborn. And he was a former Death Eater and she had been credited in part with bringing down Voldemort and his Death Eaters. They might be shunned by the larger part of the wizarding world.

Pro: Draco's general reputation might improve if she was seen to believe that he didn't deserve to be treated like a Death Eater anymore.

Con: The general public might just hate him more because he'd "corrupted" her, and hate her too for being corruptible.

Con:

No, this didn't even belong in a category. She was still so damaged from the war. She felt so alone. Until Draco, she'd felt so alone. What if she didn't really like him as much as she thought she did? What if she only wanted him because he wanted her? What if she just wanted someone to care about her more than anything else?

What if she broke his heart? If she said no now, it would hurt him, but not like it would if they took this step and then she realized that she didn't want to.

"Hermione, please just put me out of my misery," Draco said pleadingly.

She swallowed hard. She had to say it, didn't she? She had to let him down as easily as possible. Yes. It was the only decent thing to do. She didn't deserve him. She didn't even deserve his friendship though she was selfish enough to take that if he was still offering after this.

"Malfoy… Draco, I don't think that I feel the same way," she whispered, staring at her hands in her lap instead of looking at him.

When his silence persisted for too long, she risked a glance at his face – and instantly regretted it.

His face had closed down, his emotions completely shuttered. "I understand," he said, his voice completely flat.

Her breath caught, "Draco, please don't-"

"It's okay," he said in that same blank voice as he got up and started toward the portrait hole. "I'll see you in the lab. Five-fifteen, right?"

"Draco, wait!" she said almost desperately and he finally stopped though he didn't turn around. "Please believe that it isn't you," she said quietly. "I'm just… I can't be in a relationship right now. Not with anyone. I-"

"I get it," he said, his voice a tiny bit softer. He was gone before she could think of anything else to say.

Tears came hot and fast. Gods, what had she done? She'd lost him. She was sure of it. She couldn't breathe. The peaceful quiet of the common room suddenly felt like an abyss yawning to swallow her. She was alone. _You'll always be alone_, a little voice seemed to whisper in her mind.

At that moment, she was sure that she could have been surrounded by dementors and felt warmer than she did.

Her knees stopped supporting her and she crumpled to the floor, burying her head in her hands and letting to sobs come.

* * *

**I'm sorry! Please don't throw things! I'll try to get the next chapter up fast, and it really does get better. Promise!**


	8. Damaged

**Author's Note:** Okay, this chapter is on the short side, but I wanted to get this scene posted. The next chapter should be out in the next couple of days.

* * *

Draco managed to make it back to his room before the tears started. He told himself that he had known how she would answer and shouldn't have let it get to him so much. He'd always known that Hermione Granger would never see him like that. How could she after everything he'd done? He'd watched her being tortured for Salazar's sake, and he'd done nothing. He was amazed that she could even get passed that enough to be nice to him. Of course they'd never have anything more.

He knew that he was wallowing in his own self-pity, but he just couldn't bring himself to care. He played it over in his head, all the expressions that had flown across her face while she considered her answer for what had felt like at least an hour. As smart as she was, she'd no doubt considered every angle, things that he probably hadn't even thought about.

She had, at least, tried to be nice about tearing out his heart and incinerating it on her common room floor. Bloody Griffindor nobility probably wouldn't let her do anything less.

Too anxious to sit, he got up and started pacing the little room. She had looked genuinely sorry though, hadn't she? Maybe she did see him as a friend. Merlin, but that wasn't enough for him.

He soon moved beyond today's ill-fated conversation, thinking over the last few weeks that things had been changing between them. He tried to figure out how he'd allowed himself to believe that he had any chance at all.

She was attracted to him, he decided. He couldn't question that, particularly not after last night. Seducing her had been _really _easy. She'd clearly wanted him almost as much as he'd wanted her. Of course, attraction could only take him so far.

She didn't seem at all adverse to his company whether at lunch or in the library. Or even in the halls between classes. She'd never tried to avoiding him that he'd noticed. Even after what had happened that second night, she'd been the one to come to him about getting started on their Potions project.

After a long time thinking about it, he decided that she liked him as a friend. And she wanted him physically. So why didn't she want to be with him? Was it just the principle of the thing? Or could there be another reason…?

He finally realized that he was going to go crazy if he didn't get an answer to that question. With that in mind, he left his room and started out of the dungeons. It wasn't until he was in the corridors that he realized how late it had gotten. He'd evidently spent the entire afternoon pacing his room because it was definitely after curfew now.

He was just leaving the dungeons when he almost ran into Severus. His godfather frowned at him. "Draco, do you know what time it is?"

"Honestly, no," Draco admitted.

Severus' frown deepened. "Where are you going?"

Draco grimaced. "Griffindor common room?"

"Why?"

"Severus, I just need to talk with her," Draco said plaintively. "We kind of had a fight earlier, and I just walked out like an idiot. I'm not going to be able to sleep until I… Until I can talk to her."

Severus stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "Do not be late in the morning," he said severely, then tapped Draco on the head with his wand before brushing passed him.

Draco shivered slightly as he felt the disillusionment settle over him, then smiled after Severus before trotting up the stairs.

He removed the disillusionment when he reached the fat lady portrait, and said, "Tipsing Turnips."

She glared at him unhappily. "Nothing good will come of this," she warned before opening.

Draco fervently hoped that she was wrong as he stepped through the portrait hole. It was dim in the common room, the only light being the dying flickers of the fire in the hearth. He knew that he couldn't get into the girls' dorms – at least they couldn't in Slytherin – but he could use his wand to knock. He was just lifting his wand to do that when movement caught his eye and he turned to see Hermione sitting up on the sofa.

"Draco?" she said quietly, her tone fearful.

He tucked his wand away and approached her slowly. "Hermione… I'm sorry about leaving like that before. That was really stupid. I can leave if you want, but I, ah. I was kind of hoping we could talk about it."

"Okay," she almost whispered, tucking her knees up to her chest.

Draco took a quiet breath, then sat down on the end of the sofa that her feet had vacated. "Why?" he asked after a long moment of silence.

"Why?"

"You said that you don't feel the same for me, and that's fine, but… We're friends, right?"

"Yes," she said softly.

"And clearly we're compatible… physically. I mean, that's not just me right?"

"No. I mean, yes. We are, I guess."

"Then, I don't understand," he sighed heavily.

She was quiet for a long moment before she spoke, "I told you that my parents don't talk to me much since the war. I didn't tell you that my friends don't really know me anymore either. I didn't… I haven't been handling peace time all that well. That last year of the war… It was hard. We were always moving around, living out of this horrible little tent, afraid for our lives even while we were all but dying of boredom. And hunting down those awful Horcruxes …"

She shuddered at the memory and Draco automatically slid closer to her to grasp her hand in reassurance. Her eyes slid shut and she leaned her head forward to rest it over his hand. "I just can't seem to convince myself that it's not going to fall apart again. I can't relax." She took a shuddering breath and lifted her head to look at him. "Except when I'm with you."

"Isn't that a good thing?" he asked, confused and hurting for her.

"It is. It's great, but… Draco, I… I would do almost anything to hold onto that feeling. To feel like there's someone in the world that cares about me that much, but…" She sniffled softly and pulled her hand away from his. "I think I like the idea of being with someone more than I actually want to be with… you."

Draco's heart clenched painfully though he wasn't sure if it was happiness or sadness that had gripped him with her confession. After a moment of thought, he closed the rest of the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her. He could feel her shoulders shaking slightly as she cried almost silently, but she didn't try to pull away from him.

"I didn't make it through the war unscathed either, Hermione," he said softly. "I have nightmares almost every night, when I can sleep at all. My parents are in Azkaban. The friends I had that survived the war barely talk to me anymore. I'm going to school and trying to run my family's businesses at the same time. Some days… A lot of days, I can barely convince myself to get out of bed in the morning.

"The only good thing in my life is you, Hermione. Ever since that day when Bellatrix… what she did to you… I almost died watching that. I wanted to take your place. If there was anything I could have done to protect you, I'd have done it. But what you did… The way that you stood up to her. The way that you fought even after what she'd done.

"I've been in love with you since that day, Hermione."

She'd stopped crying now and she sat unmoving in his arms.

"We're both damaged. Maybe that's why we _should _be together. If it doesn't work out… Well, I think that would be a lot easier to deal when than to spend the rest of our lives wondering about it. At the very least we could help each other to deal with this _now_."

She didn't say anything, and he didn't know what else to say. He rested his cheek against the top of her head and waited for her response.

"I really want you to be right," she finally confessed. "I'm so tired of being alone."

"So am I."

"But I'm afraid of losing you as my friend."

"You won't," he promised. "No matter what happens… I can't ever imagine not wanting to be your friend."

"So we're really going to do this?" she asked hesitantly. "You want me to be your… girlfriend?"

"More than anything, Hermione."

She tucked her head down under his chin. "Okay," she said hesitantly.

"Did you set an alarm?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

He accio'd a blanket and draped it over them, then laid back and gently pulled her with him. She rested her head on his chest and he hugged her against him. "Good night, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Draco," she whispered.

Draco listened to her breathing deepen into sleep and he couldn't help but feel the warmth building in his chest. She'd said yes. Well, she'd said "okay" but it was enough. He was going to find a way to make her life better. He'd never hurt her again. He could only pray that she could fall in love with him too.

* * *

**Yay! I thought about waiting a bit and putting this scene in after another chapter or two, but that's just so cliche. So here's to characters confronting their insecurities! Oh, and I typed this up kind of fast, so I hope there's not too many typos. ;-)**


	9. Everything

**Author's Note:** I know, I made you wait all this time for such a short chapter. Sorry. I'll try to be better about updating this one.

* * *

Hermione woke up in Draco's arms for the second morning in a row. They were fully clothed this time, but what had passed between them last night was so much more important than the sex. They were now officially dating. Wow. That was weird. But kind of awesome too.

It was still dark in the common room. Her alarm hadn't gone off yet, so she snuggled a bit closer to his chest and breathed him in. His arms tightened around her a bit and Hermione discovered the true meaning of bliss. In that moment, she didn't feel any of the almost omnipresent anxiety that had plagued her since the war. She felt only content. Someone wanted her. Someone loved her. Even if it was the most improbable person, he was hers.

"I can hear you thinking, Hermione," Draco murmured, his lips at her ear. "Sleep."

She laughed softly and tipped her head up to kiss him lightly on the lips. "I think I like waking up next to you."

"So do I," he smiled, "but I'd prefer to do it considerably later in the day. Go back to sleep."

"Impossible," she admitted, kissing him again.

"Why?" he asked before stealing another kiss.

"Because I'm enjoying being awake far too much." She hooked her leg over his hip and drew herself more tightly against him.

"Mmn," he hummed, sounding suddenly more awake. "I'm starting to enjoy it too." He kissed her again, deepening it.

And then her alarm went off.

He groaned his annoyance and she whimpered. "Well, it should only take us a couple hours on the potion this morning, and then we'll have to come back to it this afternoon, but we'll have all morning-"

"We'd best get moving then," he interrupted, sitting up and pulling her with him. He started to get up, then paused, his eyes searching hers.

"What?" she asked quietly.

"I need to go back to my room and change," he sighed, "but I feel like, if I leave you… I'm so afraid I'll wake up," he admitted, his tone frustrated.

Hermione's heart clenched as she looked at him. This man who had so long been her rival if not a flat-out enemy. And now, inexplicably, he was her… boyfriend.

Well, that term clearly wasn't adequate. It was far too mundane to describe what she felt looking into his eyes right now – what she saw in those eyes. He loved her. He _truly_ loved her. While she suspected that her parents still loved her on some level, that was nothing at all like the emotion that she felt practically radiating from the man next to her. It was overwhelming that anyone could feel something like that for her. Her greatest regret at the moment was the first half of the year that she'd spent ignoring him.

In a remarkably short period of time, Draco Malfoy had become… He'd become the most important thing in her life. He made her feel like she mattered. His simple presence, his soft smile, his gentle touch, could push away all the darkness that had followed her for so long. He was… Well, she should be telling him this, shouldn't she? He looked so worried.

She ran her fingertips lightly through his hair and leaned forward to press her lips gently to his. "Draco," she said softly, staring into those beautiful silvery blue eyes, "You're my best friend."

His eyes widened and he looked like he might argue.

"It's true," she said sternly before he could speak. "You are the only person with whom I can really be myself. Harry and Ginny and Neville and Luna are my friends, but they don't really know me anymore. I…" she was getting sidetracked, and they really did need to get going. "You make me happy. Happier than I thought I'd ever be again after the war. I'm not sure that I can really even think of you as my boyfriend."

She kissed him again as that last bit seemed to have made him nervous. "You are… Draco, right now, you are my… _everything_." She blushed at how that sounded, and continued quickly, "I know, that sounds ridiculous, but-"

His lips met hers again, cutting off whatever rambling may have otherwise escaped her. One arm curled around her, holding her close but gently, while his other hand carded through her hair. His kiss was somehow at once gentle and urgent. When he finally drew away from her, he rested his forehead against hers while they both caught their breath. "I love you, Hermione," he said quietly, "and I don't expect or even want you to say it back. It's okay. You've already said more than enough."

She closed her eyes when she felt the sting of tears. She did not deserve this man. "You should get going," she said quietly. "We can't be late today."

He nodded and finally got up. "Okay. I'll see you soon."

She returned his smile, hoping that he didn't see the tears in her eyes and watched him leave. He paused just before he was lost to her sight and looked back at her again, the look in his eyes… It broke her heart and filled her with warmth at once.

^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^

When Hermione entered the potions lab, she found Draco there waiting for her. He pinned her to the wall almost at once, his lips covering hers. His tongue slipped into her mouth and, despite herself, she managed to lose herself in the kiss for a time before her sensibilities caught up with her and she pushed him away.

"Draco," she scolded, struggling to calm her breathing. "Professor Snape-"

"Is in his private lab," Draco finished for her. "Relax, Hermione, we're alone."

"Even so," she shivered under his touch. "We need to get working on the potion," she smirked, then leaned in to whisper in his ear, "and if we ruin this potion because you force me to tear your clothes off and have my way with you on one of these tables, I may never forgive you."

She watched Draco gulp, then walked passed him toward their work station. She could hardly believe she'd just said that. What was he doing to her? No, she didn't care, she decided. Whatever it was, it had to be a good thing because she didn't remember ever feeling this good before.

His arms folded around her from behind just as she was reaching their work table and she felt his lips on her neck before she could say anything. "You are an evil witch," he whispered in her ear, making her shiver. "I will take you to task for that later."

"That had better be a promise, Malfoy," she whispered in return.

She heard him chuckle and forced herself to draw away and get down to business before they missed their window. "Okay, go get the Acromantula venom while I set up the station."

"Yes, ma'am," he sighed before drifting toward the cupboard.

Hermione smiled after him for a moment before taking herself to task. There would be time to stare at him and flirt like an idiot after they'd seen to their potion.

* * *

**Short, I know. You can consider this chapter 8 part 2 if that helps. I do hope the next chapter won't take so long, but I won't make any promises. When A Phoenix Cries is still my primary WIP, but I do promise that I won't abandon this one. As always, I love reviews. I love to hear what you think. And nothing makes me more inclined to work on a particular fic than reading your lovely reviews.**


	10. Happy Christmas

**Author's Note: **I know that I haven't updated this fic in far too long. Sorry about that, but I did warn you that this one would be updated infrequently. Still, as we've now passed the two-week mark, I felt obliged to get this chapter done. Hopefully, you all remember what's happened up to this point. If not, a quick refresher. Draco professed his love, Hermione admitted her need, they decided to make their relationship official. The last chapter was pure fluff. This one is mostly fluff. And some smut. With a dash of plot thrown in for flavor. The next chapter will return to furthering the plot as the rest of the students return after the holidays. Fun, fun!

**Point of Clarification: **Okay, so there was one question about Ginny sharing classes with Hermione and the others as they are not in the same year. As the questioner was signed in as a guest, I was unable to answer. I'll do it here for my curious guest and anyone else similarly confused but less inclined to put fingers to keyboard. Yes, Ginny is younger than the others, but because Harry and co. missed their seventh year due to the war, they are now all "seventh" years. If this explanation leaves you with the searing desire to ask more questions or point out exactly why I've done it wrong, I'm terribly sorry. I do realize there is some minor discrepancy concerning the fact that, while Ginny did attend that year, she missed a sizeable portion of it, and was hardly focused considering her efforts to upset the Death Eater monarchy within the school. Let's just say that she's a smart girl, who was allowed to progress to the next school year with some of the other students in her year because she passed the end of the year testing given in the late summer after the war. Hermione was, of course, available for last minute tutoring. There. Does that satisfy everyone? If not, I'll take your questions/comments/criticisms via review or PM and attempt to provide satisfactory answers/replies/retractions as applicable.

****I apologize, additionally, for the obscenely long A/N.****

* * *

Draco woke to the most beautiful sight in the world. Hermione Granger lying naked in the bed beside him. They were in her dorm, were they'd been staying since officially entering a relationship. It really was a lucky thing that Hermione was the bookworm to end all bookworms. The spell preventing boys from ascending the staircase to the girls' dorm hadn't stood a chance against her.

She began to stir after a moment as though she could sense his focus. Her eyes found him almost at once and she smiled that content little smile to which he'd rapidly become accustomed.

"You are so beautiful in the morning," he smiled.

She rolled her eyes. "You tell me that every morning."

"That is because your beauty stuns me anew every morning," he professed.

She elbowed him playfully. "You really think you're charming," she accused.

"Oh, I know I'm charming," he countered earnestly. "And utterly gorgeous."

"And impossibly conceited," she added.

"I can't help it that I know my own strengths, love."

She sighed with a lazy stretch, "Oh, well. I concede. I'm far too relaxed to argue this morning."

He grinned. As much as he loved to argue with her, he rather loved it when she let him win too. It was hard to believe that it had only been a week that they'd officially been together. He felt so comfortable with her. Whether it was their history as enemies or the unconventional beginning to their relationship, what they had now was unlike anything he'd experienced before. The level of honesty between them was almost alarming, but also incredibly refreshing. She already knew the worst of him and he of her and they liked each other anyway. That eliminated most of the need to conceal anything important.

"Relaxed, is it?" he said, trailing one hand lightly down her body beneath the blanket. "I'm willing to bet that I can make you even more relaxed."

"Draco," she frowned, but her voice was light and breathy. "We're going to miss breakfast…"

"Hermione, it's Christmas," he admonished softly, gripping her naked hip firmly. "And the potion won't need to be tended until tomorrow. If we can't have a lie in today, what's the point of a holiday?"

She was silent for just a moment while his fingers strayed toward her quim. "I'm finding your argument stunningly compelling, this morning," she smirked as her fingers closed around his wrist, stilling his hand.

With deliberate slowness, she pushed him back while she rolled to straddle him. Her core brushed against his rapidly growing cock and he moaned when he felt that she was already wet.

"Do you wake up ready for me, woman?" he gasped.

"Uh huh," she smirked, settling herself more firmly against him, causing him to groan and squirm for more friction. "Saves time," she purred, before capturing his lips in a heated kiss.

Time slowed, stopped, ceased to matter.

Her wet folds slid over him slowly, firmly while their kiss followed the rhythm. She captured his other wrist, restraining both above his shoulders on the pillows.

"Hermione. Fuck. Please," he finally gasped.

She slowly drew his wrists together to capture them in a single hand above his head. He could have pulled free of her hold, of course, but he didn't – sweet torment though it was, he loved every moment of it.

He felt her fingers close around him with the lightest touch and groaned loudly, so hard it was literally painful. Her hips rose and he felt her settle him at her entrance, her wet heat nearly enough to finish him.

As though she was reading his mind, her teasing torture ended. She dropped herself onto him, their cries rebounding around the room. She rose and fell again. Two. Three. Four times, and he screamed, his release taking him so hard that a flurry of snow clouded his vision and he forgot how to breathe. Some part of him heard Hermione's succulent screams mingling with his own, and it actually managed to intensify the ecstasy.

She collapsed at his side a short time later. Their ragged breathing was the only sound in the room for several minutes as the concept of intelligent thought slowly returned to his grasp.

"Bloody hell, Hermione," he breathed at last. "I always knew you were a quick study, but… Fuuuck."

She chuckled softly next to him. "I've had an amazing teacher," she sighed, rolling over to drape an arm and a leg haphazardly across him.

He smiled languidly and let himself drift into a luxurious doze.

^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^

Draco waited until Hermione turned to check her reflection, then quickly _accio_'d the box from his book bag where he'd left it by the bed last night.

Hermione's eyes fell on the box instantly when she turned around. For an instant, she just stared. Then her brow drew down and her brown eyes stormed. "Damn it, Draco! We agreed, no gifts! It just isn't practical – or _fair _– because you're impossibly wealthy, and I'm really not, and you have everything, and I'm too proud to accept whatever extravagant gift you might have gotten me that I could never reciprocate, and-" She stopped abruptly when Draco, rolling his eyes, opened the box and tipped it so that she could see the contents.

Inside the gleaming wooden box was the fine platinum ring that his mother had given him after her trial. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a very slender, unadorned ring. It was so much more than that.

Hermione looked at it warily. "What is it?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's a ring, Hermione. Honestly, you're supposed to be the bright one."

She frowned irritably at him, "I can see that it's a ring, Draco. What does it mean? _To us_?"

Draco sighed. Until that very moment, he honestly hadn't decided what he'd say to her. Though, admittedly, he had practiced a few believable lies. He couldn't lie to her though. Particularly not about this. "It means that I love you," he said sincerely. "No strings attached, I swear. Just that I love you, and that I want to spend my life with you."

Her eyes widened warily.

"It's not a proposal!" he snapped. "It's like a… _pre_-proposal. It means that I want to marry you. At some point. In like, twenty or thirty years. Maybe. I mean, conceivably," he continued, watching her reactions. She seemed to relax a little more every time he made any possible marriage a more distant idea. "It's a common thing for purebloods. We're big on staking claims, you know."

That was evidently the wrong thing to say. She looked worried again, and a little angry.

"That's not what _I'm _doing," he said quickly, his irritation showing in his voice. "Look, this isn't a binding contract. You can give it back whenever you want to. It's just… Like a token. Just for you. To remind you… well, of me, I guess. I mean, once everyone gets back, we can't very well be together every minute, can we?" He absolutely loathed himself for rambling like an infatuated fourteen-year-old. "Never mind," he grumbled.

Before he could get the box closed, she'd managed to snatch it out of his hands.

He looked at her with wide eyes as she picked out the ring and shoved it onto her finger, almost defiantly. It vanished the instant that it settled onto her finger. He his his disappointment. He really hadn't expected anything else, but there had been the shadow of hopeful expectation he hadn't been able to shake.

She blinked, and rubbed at the spot. "It's still there," she said thoughtfully.

He nodded. "Like I said, this is about us. Not anyone else. An engagement ring tells the world that you're spoken for. This is just a reminder for you and me."

"Okay," she said quietly, her thumb stroking over the invisible ring repeatedly, as though to assure herself it was still there.

"You don't have to wear it," he said irritably, concerned for her reaction, though he'd known he was treading a fine line in giving it to her considering the mixed feelings she'd expressed for him.

"I want to," she said distractedly.

"Well, thank you so much for telling me," he couldn't help but grouse sarcastically, "because that silly grin on your face had me worried."

She huffed a small laugh and stepped forward to wrap her arms around him. "Thank you, Draco," she whispered in his ear in that way that always made him want to fuck her senseless against the nearest available surface. Even when they weren't alone.

He ran his hands heavily down her back and curled them around her utterly perfect ass.

"Not now," she admonished playfully, pushing him gently away. "It's nearly time for lunch, and I'm rather hungry as we already missed breakfast."

"With how sated you left me this morning, I may never eat again," he smirked.

She visibly repressed a laugh, then fidgeted slightly. Finally, she sighed and walked to her bedside table. "Well, I did get you something. Just because I knew that you were going to do something idiotic like completely ignore our deal. I mean, it really isn't much, particularly compared to this ring – whatever it actually means that you didn't quite tell me. And I didn't really buy it. I… made it. And I know that's like something ridiculous that little children do for their parents, and… Oh, just take it," she growled, her cheeks blazing as she held out the long, narrow box.

Draco really did try to swallow his smirk and save as much of her dignity as he could. Well, he tried. A bit. For a moment. Merlin, but she was adorable when she was blushing.

After her little speech, he'd half been expecting some little trinket like he'd made for his mother as a child. That complete lack of expectation was probably why he was so blindsided by what he found in that innocuous little box.

It was a quill. A _phoenix _feather quill.

"You seemed kind of stressed about… Well, about running your family business. I was hoping that this might help. It's excellent for business documents, because the ink can't be dissolved, vanished, or transfigured. It's self-inking of course, and it'll never leak or drip. The ink won't run, and it dries instantly, so it won't smudge. I know that it's nothing like your gift, and it's probably not personal enou-"

Draco cut her off by crushing his lips to hers.

The tension ran out of her as he softened the kiss and for a long time, nothing else existed.

"Hermione, it's perfect. It's amazing. _You're_ amazing," he breathed when he finally drew away from her. The mere fact that she'd remembered his petulant rambling complaints about his daily stresses was a spectacular gift in and of itself. The fact that she wanted to, in some way, help him with those problems was… incredible. And the quill… He'd never seen its like. This was the kind of thing that you could rarely find even if you wanted to spend the galleons for it. "You made this?" he asked, sitting down on her bed to gaze at the magnificent quill.

"Yes," she said quietly. "Fawkes still visits me sometimes. He's given me a few of his feathers."

He shook his head slowly, finally picking up the wonderful quill. It wasn't something to use every day, of course, simply because he wouldn't want to be prevented from vanishing or transfiguring a misplaced word or poorly thought-out sentence, but it was definitely something that he would use often for business.

"You're wonderful," he told her quite sincerely.

She blushed slightly and her teeth worried her lower lip.

He shook his head with a rakish grin, "If anyone is going to chew on that lip, love," he kissed her lightly, then nibbled said lip, "it'll be me." He did it again, and was just beginning to kiss her in truth when she slipped away from him.

"Draco Malfoy," she admonished, "if you make me miss another meal, I may very well turn you into a ferret for the night."

He was on his feet instantly despite the fact that all of his blood seemed to have fallen in that general direction. Though he was ninety-nine percent sure that she was joking, he wasn't willing to risk it. "Let's be on our way then," he said as haughtily as he could manage, trying to salvage some pride. He glanced at her when he opened the door for her and found that she was working very hard to keep from laughing at him. And only being marginally successful.

"Thank you, Draco," she said as she passed him, a small, hiccoughing laugh marring his name.

Pinching the bridge of his nose very tightly and mumbling about infuriating bloody Gryffindors, he closed the door gently behind them.

* * *

**I love the fluff. Well, this will be the last chapter set during the winter hols. The drama is back for the next chapter. Thank you all so much for your patience with this one, and I will make an effort to update sooner the next time, but, again, no promises. Of course, reviews always help to inspire me… Just saying. Randomly. No poorly veiled hints or anything.**


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